


Call It Love

by pissedoffeskimo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, M/M, Post Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-30
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 09:29:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1545920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pissedoffeskimo/pseuds/pissedoffeskimo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucius has finally gotten his hands on his five year obsession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize. Also, please be aware this is not meant to be a happy story. Consider yourself warned.

There was quite a bit that Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, had to regret and even more that he had a right to wish had never happened. There was the death of his parents, the event that gave him his ever-annoying nickname, The-Boy-Who-Lived; he had a right to wish they were alive, and parts of him still did. In his third year he had convinced his godfather not to kill Pettigrew, the man who had betrayed his parents. It was a decision that haunted him for many years, one that had allowed the rise of the dark lord and the death of many innocent people, but now it seemed unimportant if not necessary.

Up until five years ago Harry had longed for a different life. He’d wanted to know his parents, he’d wanted Pettigrew dead, he’d wanted the dark lord to remain a shadow in some deep forest, alone and helpless; however, five years ago, he had given birth to his son. At the time it was not a joyous occasion, he had not been thrilled and, in fact, had refused to so much as look at it, afraid that it might look like its father and even more afraid that, like everything else in Harry’s life, it would be doomed by association.

During the summer between his fifth and sixth years Voldemort had found a way past the wards guarding the Dursley home and Harry had been taken, listening to the screams of his relatives as he was apparated away. After two weeks of constant torture he had come to fear Voldemort far more than he had ever thought possible, though he still routinely defied Death Eaters.

Then had come the plan. The magnificent, brilliant plan that had left the Dark Lord beaming down at him in a way far more disturbing than any Harry had seen the previous weeks. The years of dark magic had left Voldemort incapable of producing his own heirs, and using just anyone did not appeal to him. Using Harry did. For some reason the two of them looked very much alike and Harry was very powerful. It seemed perfect.

Lucius Malfoy had been the one to force the various required potions down his throat and rape him, holding his head into the pillow when he became tired of the ceaseless insults, none of which made much sense. Harry had been desperate to get to him because, despite what Lucius may have told him, he wanted the situation to be as uncomfortable for the older wizard as it was for him.

He had not been closely guarded for the first few days after success had been confirmed. Voldemort was counting on the famous Gryffindor bravery to keep Harry from harming himself, but that bravery, while present, took a very different turn than expected. Harry refused to give birth to something that the Dark Lord had sanctioned, something that was the product of hate and pain, and attempted to kill himself the first chance he got.

He couldn’t even say he regretted having tried. It was the only choice he had at the time, the only thing he could do to keep something innocent from falling into the hands of something so evil. Besides even that, had he not done that they would not have chained him to the bed and the chaining, though painfully frustrating and debilitating, had lead Pettigrew to help him escape. Well, help wasn’t the right word; Harry had been beyond asking at that point and, having only been released for short periods throughout the month, he was even further past the point where he could be of assistance.

Throughout his captivity he could claim, proudly, that he had not cried once. He hadn’t begged, though after the first few torture sessions he’d stopped acting up. The moment Dumbledore wrapped his arms around Harry’s shaking, weak figure he had broken down. He’d sobbed for nearly an hour and only stopped when he had become too tired to continue.

The months of his pregnancy were passed in silence; Harry had refused to return to classes while pregnant and, despite his own reluctance, could not bring himself to abort the child. It was determined, by Dumbledore, that after it was born Harry would have some time to adjust and then be given the choice to keep it or not.

‘Adjust’ was the kind way of putting it. The child was removed several weeks early due to complications, most of which related to Harry’s decreased appetite, and Harry refused to so much as look at it. Had it not been for the willingness of much of the staff to help, Dumbledore would have had to find the child a home elsewhere.

Much to the surprise of everyone it was Snape who was the most willing. Once Harry had recovered enough to take notice of the people around him he noted that the former death eater seemed almost happy when holding the child. There was even a time when Harry caught him smiling at it, nothing large, just a tight little terse smile that seemed unnatural on the potion master’s face and succeeded in making the baby cry.

Draco was the one who finally convinced Harry to hold it, to look at it. He’d come in, sat down and picked it up, studying it for nearly half an hour in silence before announcing that other than the eyes it was most unfortunately a Potter. Later the nose would also take on the unique Malfoy sharpness and the hair, while black would become sleek and silky, but Draco had been correct otherwise. As Harry held the baby for the first time he found himself staring down at a pale child, with a very slight golden tint to its skin, mussy black hair growing out in places, and the chubbiest cheeks Harry had ever seen. The eyes, which had retained the same shape as Harry’s, were a very pale blue grey. Three years later they would even discover he needed glasses.

Once the bond was formed, urged on again by Draco who insisted his little brother liked nothing more than to be held by Harry, there was the matter of names. Malfoy refused to call it James and even Harry admitted it was too cliché, but he liked it and eventually went with Evan James Potter, the first name being a form of his dead mother’s maiden name.

It had been at that point, the first time he’d been alone with the baby after naming it, looking down at the small, round face, his eyes scrunched up and a thumb stuck firmly in his mouth, (he refused to accept pacifiers) that it struck Harry he couldn’t find it within himself to regret anything. Had his parents been alive, if he hadn’t let Pettigrew go free, if Voldemort hadn’t risen, if he hadn’t been captured, if any number of things hadn’t happened in the exact way they had Harry would not have been sitting in the window seat at two in the morning holding the small child that he was suddenly so proud of. His son, his Evan.

 

____________________

Five years later:

 

Severus Snape stood in the hallway of Hogwarts, glaring down at a small child that barely reached his waist, a small child with silk fine black hair, lightly tanned skin, and unusually light blue/grey eyes framed in silver glasses. He scowled slightly and watched the cherub face grin back at him, entirely unafraid, “What are you doing running around the school unattended, Potter?”

The five year old swayed slightly, his bright purple robe, a gift to him from the headmaster, swayed around his calves. He’d grown too large for it some time ago and his red and gold snitch socks clashed horribly, but he refused to stop wearing it, much to his father’s dismay. “Hiding.”

“From what?” The grin turned impish and the boy shook his head, ignoring the strands of black hair falling in his eyes. “There are rules about wandering these halls unattended, you know. Or are you, like your father, above the rules?”

Despite how it might have sounded to others, the words did not seem to affect the boy who put a finger up to his lips and motioned for the potions professor to kneel down. After a moment of looking up and down the hall, as though he were looking for something he knew was there, but could not see, Severus kneeled.

The boy cupped his mouth in his hands and whispered, rather loudly, “I’m playing hide and seek with father.”

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, his eyes suddenly focusing very certainly on a spot that he had seen shimmering from the hall the boy had come from, “And where, exactly, do you intend to hide? You are aware that this part of the castle is forbidden to you.” The child had been heading down the hall towards the dungeons, a place that was most definitely out of bounds unless he were being escorted.

The little grin split the face wider and he lowered his voice so that only the professor could hear, “That was the point.”

Severus raised the eyebrow further and watched as the shape of a 22 year old Harry Potter emerged from under an invisible cloak, “Evan James Potter, what are you doing sneaking around down here?”

Evan turned to face his father, his eyes wide and innocent as only the Potter child could do. “What do you mean, father?”

“You know exactly what I mean. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

“I’m not?” He tilted his head to the side, his smile dropping into a frown and his lower lip pouting out, “I’m sorry; I thought this was the way to the Hufflepuff common room. I was gonna hide in there.”

Severus’ bit back laughter. He had seen this act far too many times to fall for it and so had Harry, however, five years had taught them that no amount of lecturing could change Evan’s Slytherin nature and Harry simply ruffled the carefully combed hair and snickered at his son’s disgruntled face, “Hey, I need to talk to Uncle Severus, think you could go down to the kitchen with Winky? I’ll be down to join you for lunch in just a little while.”

He nodded and almost immediately the house elf Winky popped up, looking flustered, “Master Evan, what is you doing down here without your Winky?”

Evan allowed himself to be led away, turning back only long enough to stick his tongue out at his Uncle Severus while his father’s back was turned.

Harry sighed as he listened to the footsteps receding down the hall, “God, he is a handful.”

Severus chuckled, the smiles that had looked so forced all those years back came naturally now. “As you yourself were, I’m sure.”

“Me? Trouble? Severus, as you well know trouble was not even part of my vocabulary. I was locked in a cupboard for not answering ‘yes uncle’ to every question. I promise you, getting into trouble was the last thing on my mind.”

Severus turned to catch Harry’s bright green eyes, now staring off in the direction his son had left. “Yes, I’m sure you were a saint at home, but that does not account for your behavior here.”

Harry chuckled and turned around to face his colleague again; he had taken the DADA position shortly after graduation. “When I was here trouble found me, but I won’t say it was unwelcome. Although, thank god for Winky or he might have already driven me insane.”

Shortly after his decision to keep Evan, the house elf had approached him, offering her services. It had been Dumbledore’s idea, but Draco had, once again, been the one to talk Harry into it. There was no way that he could make up a year over the summer and then attend school without some form of help. A elf house was ideal and Winky was very much in need of an honorable position or she was likely to drink herself to death. Hermione had thrown a fit for all of ten minutes, right up until she saw how happy Winky was, walking around, rocking the little bundle in her arms while they studied.

Severus turned around and started to walk back towards the dungeons. He’d had an alarm set up to warn him if Evan were headed down any unapproved of halls. Despite what he might tell Harry to his face the child had gotten to him, he adored him, and if anything happened to the pint sized Potter he’d be devastated. “Winky may have been a great help, but I’m beginning to think she’s color blind. Every time I see the boy he’s wearing those socks and they match nothing he owns, not even his shoes.”

“Oh, those.” Harry rolled his eyes, speeding up to match the taller man’s stride, “Dobby knitted them for him at Christmas and he won’t take them off, not even to wash them. I’ve managed to get them away from him a few times, but he just cries himself blue in the face until I give them back. He thinks they’ll make him a Gryffindor.”

They stepped into the Snape’s office and Harry took a seat in a chair while Severus began sifting through the ingredients on his desk. “Why would he want to be a Gryffindor?”

“Sirius told him I was one, and that my father was one, so he’s decided he has to be one. I’ve told him it doesn’t matter, but he insists.”

Snape found what he was looking for and handed it to Harry. It was a plant used to lure and capture certain smaller dark creatures in the forest. “That child is more Slytherin than any student I have at the moment; probably more so than even me. He takes manipulation to new levels.”

“That he does.” Harry stuffed the plant in his pocket and grinned, “Want to hear his latest?”

“What has he done now?”

“He’s been asking me for months about my father and I’ve been evading it...”

“Potter, hasn’t Dumbledore taught you avoidance is never the answer?”

“Quite. So, I gave in and told him what happened, well, the PG version, anyway.”

“PG?”

“A muggle rating system, now shut up, Severus, you’re ruining the story.” Harry ignored the glare. “Then he asks me, ‘if your father’s dead, does that mean I have no grandfather?’ I have no clue where he got that, but I told him yes ‘cause lying wouldn’t do any good. So, he gets quiet, thinking really hard, and then he looks up and asks ‘but you said Uncle Sirius was like a father to you.’ I told him yes again, because I had, although not to him. He must have overheard me talking to Sirius.”

“He doesn’t say a word about it for days and then, yesterday, we went to see Sirius and Remus and he threw his arms around Sirius, yelling ‘Grandpa Sirius.”

Snape’s mouth did a very uncharacteristic thing and fell open, “He didn’t?”

Harry nodded slowly, holding in his laughter as he remembered the look on Sirius's face, "That’s not the worst of it. Someone, I can’t imagine who,” he took a moment to stare pointedly at Severus, “told him they live together, so while Remus was trying not to laugh Evan looked over at him and said 'Grandma Moony.' When I asked him he said ‘Uncle Severus says they're married, so if Sirius is my grandpa that makes Moony my grandma, right?’”

Severus stared for nearly a minute before his face took on a very controlled look, “I have no idea where he would have gotten the idea the two of them were in a relationship.”

“Really?" Harry leaned forward, obvious amusement on his face, “He couldn’t possibly have overheard you ranting about ‘the mutt and his mate?’ Possibly when you were babysitting last week?”

The look on the professor’s face went from stoic to guilty, something Harry would have died to have seen when he was a student, “Oh fine, he overheard, but it wasn’t like it came to him as a huge shock, not with Draco Malfoy hanging off your every moon.”

Harry blushed slightly, “Severus, my relationship with Draco has nothing to do with this. We are just friends right now and the few advances Draco has made have been very subtle.”

“And, as you have so bluntly pointed out to me on countless occasions, your son is not stupid, nor is he blind. He’s asked me about you two more than once. I just didn’t feel you needed that added burden. How, may I ask, are things going with you and Malfoy?”

Harry winced. It had always been a sensitive topic. Draco had been interested in Harry since Evan’s first birthday, but Harry hadn’t felt ready for any kind of relationship. Much to his disbelief, Draco had said he would wait as long as it took, and he had. Four years later the blond still seemed content to just take walks with Harry, or occasionally try holding his hand, but he never pushed. “Things are going… better. He’s been infinitely patient, although, he says that’s just the Malfoy in him, willing to do anything to get what it wants. It bothered me at first, when he said that, but it doesn’t anymore. I’m thinking,” Harry blushed deeply, “that I might see if he wants to go on a date.”

Severus smirked, “Patience preservers.” He chuckled as Harry’s face reddened, “Don’t worry, Draco will be thrilled.”

“Where is he, anyway? I haven’t seen him in days.”

“He’s on a mission for Dumbledore, very routine, he should be back either today or tomorrow.”

Harry nodded and stood from his seat, stretching, “I will see you at dinner, Professor Snape.”

“Indeed, Professor,” Snape winced slightly, “Potter.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

Lucius Malfoy walked noiselessly through Hogwarts, keeping his ears open for the sound of footsteps. According to the information he had managed to torture out of his son this corridor was rarely checked, as Potter had erected so many wards and entrapments throughout it. Not even Snape or Filch’s cat bothered coming up there.

Draco was now dead, laying in the dungeons of Malfoy manner until Lucius ordered the removal of his body. It had been the boy’s own fault; he had assumed that he could pretend to be paying his father a friendly visit and then sneak into his study to rifle through the paper work for useful information.

What bothered Lucius more was that it had apparently worked on several other occasions. The dark lord had been very angry lately, trying to figure out who was leaking information, and it turned out to be his own ungrateful son. As though he hadn’t done enough, as though he hadn’t left him in the will despite his refusal to join their cause, as though he hadn’t sanctioned the boy’s choice to pursue Harry bloody Potter despite the fact it would most likely get him killed and, if the perpetual refusals were anything to go by, was not going to get anywhere.

No matter, his son was a sentimental fool who believed that what he felt for Potter was love, or some other equally unrealistic emotion. Lucius knew the truth because he had suffered from the same affliction for more than five years. Ever since his first taste of the rebellious little sixteen year old he had craved more, but forced himself not to take it; first because he was too heavily guarded while pregnant, and then because Draco had expressed an interest.

Now, however, there was nothing in his way. All assumed that Potter’s own paranoid nature would keep him safe. The wards were good, the traps perfectly placed, if Draco hadn’t told the older wizard where each and every trigger lay and the passwords to disable them he would have been caught by now. As it was, he’d had no such problem.

At last, he reached the door he was looking for and whispered the parseltongue password followed immediately by another English password. Parselmouth was a very difficult language to master and Lucius would not pretend that he had, but Potter had apparently trusted Draco far more than he should have and taught the blondee how to say the word just crudely enough to get him past. Possibly, he had done so because he knew that very few would believe Harry trusted a Malfoy that much or, possibly, he suffered from the same delusion as Draco had. Either way it had worked out to Lucius’ benefit.

The room was shabby and messy, Lucius nearly tripped over several items as he made his across the floor. The bed was overly lumpy, but only one figure lay in it, a small five year old child. Not so small, perhaps, as Draco had been at that age, but Draco’s build was much more like his mothers. That right there should have tipped Lucius off to his son’s future preferences.

He knelt beside the bed and stared at the half covered figure. Straight silken black hair, golden skin, glasses laying on the side of the table, sharp Malfoy nose on the otherwise rounded face. He brushed the hair from the boy’s face, feeling the Malfoy like texture on a head of such black hair was strange, to say the least.

The eyes blinked open and he found himself staring at the same blue grey eyes that he had, the same Draco had had. Odd, this little creature was such an obvious mix of Potter and Malfoy, of two such opposite wizarding families it should have felt unnatural, instead it was just… perfect.

The boy sat up and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, “Who’re you? Where’s father?”

Lucius smiled, pulled from his awe by the suspicion behind the sleepy voice. No Gryffindor had ever been that suspicious without reason, “I am your father.”

“No you’re not, Harry Potter is my father.”

Smart mouthed, as well. “Your other father, Evan, you have my eyes.”

The child sniffed and his mouth thinned as he thought this through, “I do not, I have big brother Draco’s eyes.”

“And where do you think he got them”

Evan stared at him for a moment, before a look of uncanny determination came over his face, “I don’t like you. Father said my other dad was bad and that I shouldn’t trust him and so did big brother Draco. Big brother Draco said that if I ever met my other dad, I should scream.”

The declaration had the desired effect of stunning Lucius long enough for Evan to open his mouth and take a deep breath, preparing to do just that, but Lucius grabbed the boy’s face, muffling the noise with his hand. He cringed at the sharp little finger nails that dug into his fingers as he pressed the child into the mattress and dug around for his wand, “Stupefy.”

Not the best spell to use on a small child, but very effective. He went limp and Lucius scowled down at the now sleeping figure. The little brat had left teeth marks! He looked at the palm of his hand, now imprinted with a ring of teeth. He picked up the boy and did a quick invisibility spell, walking down the halls as quietly as possible. Potter’s sleeping quarters were surprisingly close to the exit, something Lucius doubted was coincidence.

Outside the entrance hall, Lucius handed the limp body over to a waiting house elf and scowled at it, “Take him back to the manor, lock him in his room, and wait for my return. I doubt I have to warn you about the punishment should you fail.” There was a terrified squeak and the two figured disappeared.

Now all that was left was to get his hands on Harry, a much harder task.

____________________

 

Harry walked through the entrance hall, looking around at the dark, evening surroundings. Everything seemed quiet enough, only a few of the students out of bed, a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were making out in the Astronomy tower, but, other than the two houses involved, it was nothing unusual.

Turning the corner towards his rooms, he offhandedly said the first of the passwords and stopped, waiting for the familiar tingle that said it was safe to walk past. Nothing happened. He waited a few extra moments and then walked forward. Nothing, it must have been disarmed.

He was nearly ready to panic when it occurred to him Draco was probably back and had stopped by to say hello. He knew about Harry’s midnight strolls and was most likely waiting for him with a very awake Evan. He’d have to lecture Draco about that again. Waking up a five year old after only a few hours sleep was not a good thing, they had the uncanny ability to stay awake, not to mention he’d left the spells down.

How many times had Harry told him to reinstate them as soon as he had gone past? Honestly, Harry was going to momentarily panic either way, whether he found them inactive or walked in on someone unexpectedly sitting in his room, but he preferred them up for Evan’s safety. Not that the dark lord had ever tried to actually claim the child, but it was a fear that weighed heavily in Harry’s mind every day.

Opening the door into the living room/bedroom, Harry expected to see Draco and Evan sitting up on the large bed, talking animatedly. Instead, he saw nothing. The covers were thrown back from his bed and Evan, who never liked to sleep in his own room, was not there. He looked around, but already knew nothing was there. The only other furnishings were a magically locked wardrobe and a cluttered desk.

Harry marched through the first door he reached, scanning the large bathroom quickly before going into Evan’s room. He stopped in the doorway, his stomach clenched uncomfortable and he forced his mouth closed to keep himself from vomiting. Lucius Malfoy was sitting very calmly in the denim rocking chair in the corner, staring back with an overly calm expression.

Harry gave a soft growl as the feeling in the pit of his stomach went from fear to anger. Lucius would have to be responsible for Evan’s disappearance, he knew that much, and there was no way in hell Lucius was getting out of this unscathed.

His fingers clutched the wand in his pocket and he was about to pull it out when the man smiled, just smiled, and Harry stopped, “Where is he, Lucius?”

Lucius continued to smile, “Whoever do you mean, Harry dear? I’ve only come here for you.”

Narrowing his eyes, Harry stood straighter, his wand now out of pocket, but not yet aimed, “My son, Lucius. Where is Evan?”

Lucius made a knowing sound and stood, seeming to expect the wand that Harry instantly raised towards him. “I wasn’t lying, Harry, not entirely anyway. I only came here for you; however, after interrogating Draco, it seemed the most likely way to get to you was to get to little Evan James first.”

“Where is he and what have you done to Draco?” Harry’s voice had taken on a demanding tone, the same tone that had earned him respect among many ministry officials. Unfortunately it did not appear to be having the same affect on the death eater.

Lucius stopped next to Evans child sized bed and ran a hand across the plastic foot board. Harry had insisted on buying the supplies himself and had also insisted on things made specifically for children rather than the solid wood wizarding bed set that Draco had pointed out, one that was charmed to grow with the child. It would have been sensible, sure, but then Harry would never have gotten to see the horrified look on Winky’s face as he assembled ‘multi-colored plastic monstrosity’ (as Draco had insisted on calling it). “Our son is safe, I would never… no, that’s not right, I would hurt my own blood, but he hasn’t done anything to deserve it yet. Besides, he’s the bait that will make you come with me. Draco, however, is dead.”

The wand slipped from Harry’s fingers and fell on the floor. Lucius was using his son to get to him and Draco was dead? “Why?”

“Well, it appears he was only using me to get information for the Light Side. So, I used him for information and then discarded him as I’m sure he would have done with me eventually. I should have seen it long ago; we are Malfoys after all.”

Harry’s eyes flitted around the room, determination bright in them. He stormed past Lucius to a small chest of drawers near the bed, made of the same plastic. He opened them, frantically pulling things out and throwing them on the bed. After less than a minute he grabbed a very full, small backpack and set it down next to the stuff.

Lucius watched in interest as Harry took a child sized muggle suitcase from under the bed and threw the clothes in, zipping it shut with little difficulty. When Harry went to pick it up, Lucius stopped him, “Anything he needs, will be provided at Malfoy Manner.”

“You’ll pardon me if I’m skeptical.” Harry shoved past, suitcase and backpack in hand, into the other room. He stopped only long enough to put a small stuffed animal in the backpack and then turned to Lucius. “I want to see my son, Malfoy, and I want to see him now. You’ll get me to the manner with threats to his safety, but you’ll get nothing else until I see him.”

Smiling darkly, Lucius held he door open, “You first, dear.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

Malfoy Manor was as large as Draco had said it was. The front foyer, or what Harry managed to see of it as he followed Lucius through one of the many doors, was larger than he and Evan’s entire suite at Hogwarts. Not that this was difficult. He had been offered larger ones, but none of them were close enough to the entrance hall for his liking.

He still wasn’t quite sure why he needed to be so close to the castle’s main hall, except that it made him more comfortable and that, since it was a little used passage, he could set all the wards and protections he wanted. The only drawback had, of course, been its size. The one they were in consisted of only a sitting room, bathroom, and one bedroom.

Having never had anything of his own, Harry was insistent that, no matter how inconvenient or awkward it might be, Evan would have his own room. So he had turned the sitting room into a sort of master bedroom and put Evan in the other one, tacky furnishings and all. Not that the bedroom ever got much use. Evan didn’t like to sleep alone, if Harry tucked him in, he’d just get up and sneak into his father’s bed first chance he got. But after a while Harry had decided it didn’t matter, as long as the room was there it was all right.

He’d been so deep in thought that he nearly ran into Lucius when the wizard stopped in front of a large white door. Damn, he should have been paying attention to where they were going, now he had absolutely no clue where this was and, according to Draco, it was very easy to get lost.

When Lucius opened the door, Harry tightened his grip on the book bag, which he hadn’t realized was already cutting the circulation off to his fingers. It appeared that, dark wizard or not, Lucius had been telling the truth. Though Evan’s sleep was obviously magic induced (he never slept on his back with his arms neatly laid at his side) he looked rather comfortable.

Harry stepped slowly into the room and a dim light turned on, just bright enough so that he could see around. He gaped openly, not bothering to deny that he was stunned. The furniture was very close to the same that Draco had wanted Harry to get, only instead of dark wood it was white washed and decorated with pictures of moving animals. The walls were a painted landscape with various magical creatures playing throughout it.

A large toy chest sat at the foot of the bed and Harry set the book bag and suit case on top of it before sitting on the bed next to Evan and surveying his face to make sure he hadn’t been hurt. He couldn’t help noting that the mattress was extremely soft and that the comforter felt like goose feather and Egyptian cotton.

Harry could feel Lucius staring at him, but he still jumped a little when the older wizard spoke, “I told you everything would be provided for.”

Scoffing, Harry brushed hair out Evan’s face and noticed he had been changed from his usual red and gold nightshirt into a pair of white silk pajamas. “I suppose you had nothing better to do with Draco’s old things.”

For a moment Lucius said nothing, but when he did his voice was low and firm, “Malfoys do not give their children second hand things. Everything in here was bought specifically for our son using the information I got from Draco.”

Harry gulped down the knot that had formed in his throat when Lucius had said ‘our son.’ No matter how hard he tried to pretend other wise Evan was indeed their son, but at least that fact was doing some good at the moment. He took a deep breath to steady his voice and tucked Evan’s arms under the blanket, pulling it to his chin. “Lucius,” He waited for a sound that said continue, mostly because he didn’t think he could otherwise, “is Voldemort still interested in my son?”

He made sure to emphasize ‘my,’ though he doubted it would do any good. Malfoy waited a moment before answering, perhaps contemplating his answer, most likely allowing Harry to dread it just that much longer. “Not in particular. If he could get his hands on Evan he would be pleased, but he assumes to let you raise him a few more years and then take him before he starts school.”

“Isn’t he worried about my influence?”

Harry shuddered as a hand touched his shoulder, “No. Lord Voldemort has more important things to worry about and, besides, anything you teach the child can be unlearned. As I’m sure you well remember.”

He shrugged off the hand, gripping his own upper arm tightly. Lucius was referring to the way Dumbledore had taught Harry not to fear Voldemort and how, in less that a week, Voldemort had retrained him to fear even the mention of his name. Not that Harry ever let it show, he’d become a marvel actor during his pregnancy, having to convince everyone that he was all right and that, yes, everything was going to be fine when he didn’t believe a word of it himself.

Harry started slightly as Lucius fingers wrapped around his upper arm and pulled him to his feet, he felt hot breath next to his ear, “I believe it’s time for bed, don’t you?”

For the first time in years Harry realized how much larger than him Lucius was. It was a matter of some debate whether Evan had gotten the Potter or Malfoy build, as there was no one alive that knew what James Potter had looked like as a toddler and Harry, having been so undernourished, had always been extremely small for his age. At twenty-two Harry stood five foot eight, taller only than Hermione - even Ginny beat him by an inch. Sirius had said that Lily had been shorter and Prongs taller, but Harry seemed to take after his father in every other aspect so there was a good chance Harry’s slight built was due to the starvation from the Dursleys rather than actual genetics.

Evan, on the other hand, had no such problem, he was the same height as most of his piers and taller than some. Looking at Lucius, Harry had to admit the Malfoy genes were very probably where he got it. The elder Malfoy towered over Harry at six foot three and was nearly twice as broad in the shoulders. Apparently, being a death eater was hard work, because Harry was fairly sure it was all muscle.

He pulled his arm back, half tested Malfoy’s grip, half actually trying to get away. Definitely all muscle. “As loathe as I am to ask this and as positive as I am that I don’t want to know the answer, what do you want from me?”

Lucius twisted Harry’s arm so that he was forced to stand chest to chest, his back to his son. He could feel the hard-on in Lucius trousers and forced himself not to try and pull away again. “Isn’t it obvious, Harry dear? I want you. I’ve wanted to have you all to myself since the first time I took you.”

Before Harry could shut his mouth, the sarcastic side of him took control, “Oh, and what took you so long?”

The older wizard took no notice, pulling Harry yet closer and wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him from pulling back, “My son had an interest, so I stayed away; however, Draco is no longer an obstacle.”

Harry did try and pull away then, but it was no use and Lucius appeared to be enjoying it, so he stopped. “I want to stay with Evan; he’s not used to sleeping alone. He’ll be scared when he wakes up.”

Lucius let go of Harry’s waist, but tightened his grip on the arm, pulling him from the room forcefully, “You will see your son tomorrow, assuming you have behaved yourself.”

Lucius had very little difficulty dragging Potter through Malfoy manor. Not that he was entirely surprised, by size comparison alone it was obvious, but he’d expected there might have been more to the dark haired wizard than what was on the surface. Really, though, to be fair to the young man, he might be in shock. He was obviously over attached to his son and having that threatened probably had an impact, not to mention finding out that a close friend was dead; either that or he was smarter than Lucius was giving him credit for.

He opened the door to his bedroom with a tap of his wand and flung the smaller man inside, quickly shutting it behind him. Potter managed to stay on his feet, grabbing the bed post for support and then letting it go as though it were hot. He knew what was coming and he wasn’t rushing the door, or backing away. He knew that Lucius was stronger, probably knew he couldn’t get out the door without his wand (which was still on the floor of his suite at Hogwarts) and, most importantly, knew that fighting this would be a losing battle.

Lucius shrugged off his cloak, undoing the clasp in a sweeping gesture, and let it fall to the floor. He saw Potter shake slightly, but it stopped almost before he noticed. Stepping across the room, he used one hand to shove Harry onto the bed, watching his eyes squeeze shut for just a moment before snapping open and staring straight ahead, determined not to appear scared.

Very good, this was the same thing that had attracted him to Potter when he was sixteen. The fight had been fun, it had made it more enjoyable, but the real thrill had been that the boy had never truly shown he was afraid.

Lucius leaned down, crawling on top of the smaller figure, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, savoring every inch of bare skin that was revealed. Potter was still staring straight ahead, into Lucius’s chest, a decidedly blank expression on his face.

Once the shirt was completely open, Lucius planted his mouth firmly against the other, drinking the startled yelp when he bit the lower lip and shoved his tongue inside the younger man’s warm mouth. It tasted like peppermint tooth paste and fear. Fear had a distinct taste, musty and hot in a dry mouth.

He worked his knees between Potter’s, who resisted for only a second, then pressed his pelvis down, watching delightedly as the green eyes got larger and the pupils dilated slightly, giving them a glassy appearance.

Potter was by far one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen, ever had the privilege to touch. Lucius ran his tongue around the mouth once more, savoring the heat, before pulling out and moving to his neck, biting on the pulse, licking it so he could feel the quickened heart beats under his tongue, grinding down with his hips as he did so.

As though on queue Potter scurried back, trying to get away from the pressure between his legs and Lucius followed, waiting until the smaller man’s head was on the pillow before he pressed a hand into the shoulder, halting the movement. He resumed kissing, trailing his lips down to lightly nibble the sensitive nipples, enjoying the little noises of protest and unwanted pleasure coming from his victim.

Somehow the fact that Harry wasn’t actively fighting was making Lucius even harder. He wanted to analyze it, but there was time for that later and his clothes were getting stuffy. He pulled his lose fitting shirt over his head and slid up, to press his bare chest against Harry’s, who flinched ever so slightly.

Lucius returned to invading his mouth while he enjoyed the feel of the fiery skin against his own. Potter chest was remarkably tan, golden and smooth; it lifted and fell heavily with each breath. Twisting his fingers through the messy black hair, Lucius held Potter head still with one hand while his other began undoing the smaller man’s pants, reaching inside the underwear to massage the flaccid penis beneath.

Potter held his breath, gripping the covers as Lucius worked his palm against the velvet skin, feeling the cock slowly hardening. Harry seemed to finally give up something and his eyes closed. He seethed between his teeth in frustration when his mouth was let go. Lucius sat up onto his knees pulling Harry pants down, allowing him to sit up, as it made taking them off easier.

As he took in the naked body before him, Lucius silently noted everything that was and was not different, surprised at how few the differences were after so long. He was only a few short inches taller, his legs were still only scantly covered in dark hair that was smooth to the touch, much like his skin. In fact, the only real difference was the small scar above the line of pubic hair that marked the spot they had removed the baby.

Lucius growled softly, possessively, and gripped Potter’s wrists, pressing them into the mattress to keep him from moving away as he kissed the pale line, licked it. He felt the muscles tensing and the arms pulling back. When he had satisfied himself, Lucius used his grip to pull Potter back onto his back, attacking his mouth viciously, feeling his carnal urges taking over. He held both the wrists above Potter’s head in one of his hands and used the other to remove his own pants, freeing his aching erection.

He could see the stubborn panic coming over the face at the crotch on crotch contact and held on until it receded and he was sure the man below him wasn’t going anywhere. He leaned in and bit an earlobe, whispering deeply, “This would work better if you turned around.”

Harry’s breath caught and Lucius smiled sadistically, pulling up and watching with silent triumph as Potter turned himself over, crossing his arms under his head and burying his face in the crook. Lucius thought about preparing the petite body below him, but decided against it. Tonight was not about pleasure; it was about control, about being inside and leaving no question as to who was dominant.

Melding over the other’s back he positioned himself and bit into the perfect shoulder as he forced his cock slowly past the tight, unprepared ring of muscle barring his way. He heard the muffled little whimpers and bit down harder, giving himself something more to concentrate on than the tight warmth quickly surrounding him.

Pushing harder he felt himself sink the rest of the way in and pulled his teeth from the skin, surveying the damage. Lucius forced himself to stay perfectly still, afraid that any more movement than the tiny shudders bellow him would cause him to cum before he was ready.

He lapped at the little specks of blood while his excitement came down and his body slowly unwound. When he thought it was safe to move he shifted his weight slightly and pulled out very slowly till just the head rested inside. Harry was whimpering again, breathing quickly, his body retightening in fear. Allowing himself only a moment to smirk he shoved in as quickly as he thought was safe. No use damaging Potter just yet, it would much more satisfying when he begged for it.

“I hate you.” The voice was barely audible and Lucius picked himself up enough to see that Potter was concentrating very hard on the pillow below him. His eyes were watery, though he wasn’t crying, and his arm was bleeding profusely where he had sunk his own teeth into the skin. Lucius ran a hand through the black hair, pulling the sweat that had built up around the edges through the strands.

Harry whimpered at the almost kind gesture and pushed his face back into his arm, smearing the blood against his cheek, “I hate you, I hate you, I…”

Lucius pulled his head up by the hair and licked his neck, tasting the salty skin under his tongue, “I know.”

Without waiting for a response he began to move in long, slow thrusts, his own body shining with sweat from the excursion of not pounding. Harry yelped softly with each downward movement. After several minutes of agonizing control, Lucius fell forward, his elbows on either side of the Potter’s head, and began to move in earnest, sharp, shallow thrusts and bit into the other shoulder.

Once he had begun really moving he knew it wouldn’t be long before he finished. Potter was so tight it was painful, but he was enjoying it, he wanted it, wanted to draw blood and tears and, though he doubted he would succeed in the later of the two, the thought alone was driving him to the edge of orgasm.

Potter clenched tighter against the invasion, for what reason, Lucius didn’t know and didn’t care, but it was enough to push him over the edge and he growled gutturally as he came, pressing himself as deep into the unwilling body as he could, his balls tight against those bellow him. He held himself in the position long after he was finished, relishing the aftermath of orgasm that coursed through his body and the wonderfully tight ass around his quickly deflating cock.

He waited till he felt the body bellow him twitch uncomfortable and forced himself up and over with more will power than he thought he had left. Harry didn’t move, he didn’t try and get up, didn’t even shift positions. Lucius watched him for several minutes, but the need to sleep was far more demanding than simple curiosity. Of course, his need to clean up was also rather pressing, but he ignored it, deciding that a morning shower would be much more enjoyable, especially if he had company.

Making a few motions with his wand, he ensured that Potter couldn’t leave the bed and left it at that. Any physical attack on the young man’s behalf without a wand or other weapon would be pointless. He turned onto his stomach, sensitive flesh brushing against the sheets and threw an arm around Harry. It had definitely been a profitable day


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

Harry wasn’t sure if he had even gone to sleep. He might have, or he might have just been in very deep shock. It didn’t really matter, though, as he was definitely awake now. He’d tried to get off the bed some time ago and, realizing it wouldn’t work, had pressed himself against the headboard and pulled his knees to his chest, waiting skittishly for Malfoy to wake up.

Last night had been... he didn’t want to think about last night, he wanted to see Evan. He’d done that, let Lucius Malfoy bugger him again, so he could see his son. A part of him had wanted to beg for the privilege when they had finished, but he didn’t think Lucius would let him and, more importantly, didn’t think he could walk.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when the blonde wizard finally started to shift in the bed as he slowly woke, but he did know the sun had been up for some time. Harry forced himself not to twitch away as Lucius looked up, groggy, but, on the whole, alert enough, “Up all ready, love?”

“Stop that.” Harry hadn’t been able to shut his mouth in time. He saw the dangerous scowl on Lucius face, but didn’t move fast enough. Not that he was at all sure where he would have gone to if he had.

Strong hands encircled his wrists and pulled him over awkwardly, so that he was nose to nose with the Lucius, “Now that you are here you will not be leaving. I have retained your son simply because I thought it would make you more docile.” He tightened his fingers around the wrists, “If that concept proves futile, Harry love,” he emphasized the word ‘love’ with a brutal twist on one arm, “I might just send him back.”

Harry tried to pull his arm away, biting back a scream as it was pulled further in the wrong direction, “Send him away and I will fight you.”

Lucius straddled his chest, forcing his back against the mattress and his breath to seize up painfully in his lungs, “And I will enjoy watching you fail.” There were several moments of silence before he suddenly stood up, speaking the password to bring down the barriers and letting Harry go, “Come. There’s healing soaps in the shower, and besides you really should take a bath before breakfast, love.”

Harry hesitated for only a second before he got up and followed. His skin was crawling. The bathroom was vast; there was a tub large enough to fit three or four people and the wizarding equivalent to a shower head affixed to the ceiling in a corner. No curtains or doors sectioned off the shower, just a large patch of black tile, a drain, and a seat built into the wall.

Lucius walked onto the tile and the shower turned on, spewing jets of already steaming water against his pale skin. Harry stared for a moment, unsure what to do. He wanted to bathe, but he did not want to be anywhere near Malfoy at the moment, especially unclothed.

The hesitation did not go unnoticed and Lucius opened his eyes, ignoring the water cascading down his face, “In. Now.”

Harry gulped, but stepped closer, each bare foot slapping against the dry white marble ominously. As soon as he stepped within reach, Lucius gripped his upper arm and pulled him to stand in front, dropping the arm to encircle Harry’s waist, “Much better.”

Harry didn’t think so, but he said nothing, closing his eyes as Malfoy reached for the soap. He clenched his teeth as he felt the bar run over his body, the tips of Lucius’ fingers brushing against his chest and abdomen. God, he was never showering again.

The soap disappeared, but was quickly replaced with a soapy hand that worked its’ way between the two bodied, moved downward to Harry’s ass. Despite his trepidation, he kept reminding himself of his reasons for not fighting back and didn’t pull away as a single finger worked up and down his cleft. He did, however, jerk violently as it inserted itself into the tight, torn confines of his arse and set the still open wounds on fire.

The arm around his waist tightened, keeping him from pulling away. If the hard on pressed against the middle of his back was any indication, his slight struggles and small noises of protest were turning his aggressor on. The finger moved slightly and the pain eased. Harry forced himself to stop moving entirely and Lucius purred into his ear, “As I said, healing soap. There now, isn’t that better?”

He removed the finger and Harry turned around, backing as far away as he could, less than three feet from Malfoy, “Don’t touch me. You got what you wanted last night and you won’t get anything else till I’ve seen my son again.”

The older man stepped forward, pressing his hands onto the wet wall on either side of Harry’s shoulders, “As much as I would love to prove you wrong, love, we have breakfast to attend.”

 

____________________

 

When they entered the room Evan was sitting at the long dining table in the seat Lucius had assigned for him. He was wearing a long black robe of fine cotton that hung down over his little feet. Lucius had assumed being tended by house elves would have made it easier on the boy, seeing as he had one for a nurse maid, however, he appeared to have been crying; his eyes were puffy and slightly red, his cheeks flushed and he kept sniffing.

The moment he saw Evan, Harry had run over, flinging his arms around his son and pulled him onto the floor into his lap. “Evan, oh gods, are you okay?”

Evan sniffed a few more times before answer, “Yeah.”

Harry grabbed the side of the boy’s pale face carefully and lifted it up to look into his eyes, seemingly examining every inch he could. “Why were you crying?”

“They took my clothes away and they wouldn’t give them back. Not the robe Great Grandpa Albus gave me. Not even the socks, they wouldn’t give my socks back and the house elves said they threw them away, they said they were too dirty.”

Lucius watched with detached interest as Harry ran his hands over his son’s hair, an obvious smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Cover your ears and hum.”

Evan clamped his hands over his ears and closed his eyes as his began humming. He appeared to be concentrating very hard. Harry made sure the ears were properly covered before turning back to Lucius, his eyes bright with anger, “I don’t care what the bloody hell you have to do, you ignorant twat, but you will get those socks back.”

The blonde wizard forced himself not to raise his hand. He wanted the child to be comfortable with him around and hitting Harry just now would probably be counter affective. “I assure you that I am neither ignorant, nor a part of the female anatomy; you will address me as Lucius. Forget that again and it will be a week before you get the privilege of seeing your son. As for the socks, I fail to see the importance.”

The anger had quickly ebbed from Harry’s face, as well as all color, at the mention of not seeing son. It had been replaced by an almost desperate edge, “They’re his Gryffindor socks, Lucius. He gets a pair every year from Dobby and he doesn’t take them off, he loves them, he...” Harry glanced back at his son, making sure the ears were still properly, “thinks they’ll make him Gryffindor. Just, please, he’s five years old. Let him have his stupid socks.”

Lucius stared down at the two, noting that Evan had opened his eyes slightly, an evil glint in the grey depths that reminded him very much of Draco as a small child, especially when he had told on one of the other children and was watching them get scolded; very interesting. When he was sure Harry had waited long enough he nodded, “I’ll see that it’s taken care of. Now do get off the floor. Breakfast is getting cold.”

He saw Harry look up, noticing the lavish foods for the first time. Evan had stopped humming and his hands were clasped behind his back innocently. Lucius forced himself not to say anything as Harry sat in a chair and put his son in his lap, as though it were the most natural thing. Perhaps it was. Draco had never been coddled as such, always intent on proving he could do things by himself, but Evan did not protest, in fact he seemed to relax.

Eating his own meal, he watched the two interact, making note of several things. Harry was more than just over protective of his son; they might as well have been one person. He didn’t need to ask what Evan wanted to eat and Evan didn’t need to be told to slow down, or sit still. In fact, Lucius could say that, other than the fact he was sitting in someone’s lap, Evan was the most well mannered five year old he’d ever come across. Even Draco had been rather clumsy at that age, but this boy chewed with his mouth shut, held his glass in two hands to ensure he didn’t spill, and dabbed the corners of his mouth when he was finished.

When Evan had taken the last bite off the plate he turned his head, kissed his father’s cheek and got into his own chair, taking the glass of juice carefully with him. Lucius tried to keep from openly displaying his shock. Harry Potter, hope of thousands, the man that could silence an entire room with a look, was so wrapped around his son’s finger that he let him eat in his lap. It was preposterous; it was possibly one of the strangest scenes Lucius had ever seen. It was obvious the boy was capable of sitting on his own; he could reach the table well enough from his seat.

Having finished his own meal, Lucius watched Harry as quickly shoveled food in his mouth, pouring tomato sauce and baked beans on top his eggs before piling the disgusting mess onto a piece of toast. This was going to have to stop. Lucius refused to be put off food this early in the morning. “You can slow down. I am in no hurry.”

Harry looked up, blushing in a very delightful way, “Of course, I’m just used to eating quickly so that I can get to class before the students.”

“You eat under such strict limits that you practically swallow your food whole, and yet your son eats in your lap before you even begin?” He ignored the angry glare sent to him by the five year old, although it could not escape his attention how very much like Severus’ it was. “Tomorrow he will eat in his own seat.”

Harry’s green eyes slit dangerously, “Hum, Evan.” As small as Harry may have been, he could came off quite territorial. At the moment he had locked eyes with Lucius and refused to break the stare, as though dealing with a predatorial animal.

Evan complied, although, with those curiously knitted dark eyebrows, Lucius got the impression he was listening anyway. Leaning forward, Harry’s eyes never wavered, “Despite what control you may think you have over me, Lucius, you made it very clear what was expected of me last night. I will... spread my legs like a good little whore, but I will not accept advice on how to raise my son. So, you will keep your nose out of my family business.”

Had he not had such an easily played trump card, Lucius had to admit he would have been intimidated. As it was, however, Harry seemed to forget that, while last night’s excursion was the first of many to come, it was not the only thing Lucius wanted. He wanted control, he wanted to own the other man mind, body, and soul, he wanted to be the thing Harry feared and craved most in the world. He wanted it, and he would have it, even if it meant using the cheapest of tactics.

Never taking his gaze from Harry, Lucius stood up and walked slowly around the table, noting Evan had stopped all pretence and dropped his hands to his side. Harry did not seem to have noticed, or perhaps didn’t care. Lucius leaned down, nose to nose with the smaller man, waiting until he saw the reluctant hesitation flicker through the mutinous expression. “I want much more from you than that and I dare say you know it. Stop pretending you have any control over anything that happens in this house.”

He pressed his palm lightly over Harry’s mouth when it opened it to reply, “Shh... send your son away, love, you don’t want him to see this.”

The green eyes faltered and Harry shook his head in disbelief. He knew that look, knew what it meant when Lucius eyes dilated every so slightly and his mouth twitched in grim mockery of a smile. He knew and he didn’t want Evan to see. “Go back to your room, Evan.”

“But, father...”

He couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the monster still staring so closely at him, “Just go. Go now.”

Something popped into the room with a soft crack. Probably a house elf, it didn’t matter. Whatever or whoever it was lead Evan from the room and as the door closed behind them Harry felt himself immediately begin to shake. He knew, from the way the smile finally found its’ way onto the blonde wizards eyes, that Lucius was delighted by the show of fear. He had to bite his lip to keep the begging pleas from slipping past.

Harry never saw Lucius move, just felt the hands clamp around his upper arms, near his shoulders and hoist him up onto the table, knocking the glass over. It rolled around a few times and then fell off the edge, shattering on the floor. The plate of food Harry had not managed to finish was now sitting next to him. He stared down at the pile of eggs, covered in red tomato sauce, almost like they were bleeding. Really cheap fake blood, like in a B movie, the kind Harry hadn’t seen in years, since he’d immersed himself in the wizarding world.

Lucius let go of his arms, one hand gripped his face, holding it still as the other knocked the plate away, “You are mine, Harry Potter, and you do as I say or you face punishment. Not just this, either.” He punctuated his words my ripping Harry’s already dirty robes down the middle, popping buttons from the holes. “You will spend the rest of the day in our room. If you’re very good, love,” Lucius bit a dark nipple viciously, gaining a gasp from his victim, “I’ll let you have dinner with us.”

Harry felt numb as he was pulled off the table, turned around, and bent over it. He barely noticed his pants being shoved down around thighs, but couldn’t hold back the half scream as Lucius enter roughly, barely coated with a thin sheen of spit. Harry’s fingers tried to find purchase on the table below him, while his feet, the toes of which were dragging the white marble floor, tried to press more firmly into the ground.

Long fingers of one silk smooth hand gripped the back of his neck, the other dug nails into his hip, holding him still as Lucius began thrusting. Despite his resolve to say and do nothing, Harry felt dry sobs working their way forcible from the back of his throat. He took his lip between his teeth as another particularly sharp thrust made his eyes water. He would not cry, he could not cry.

Some part of him recognized that what was happening just then was very different from the night before. He’d felt the need coming from Lucius then, it had radiated off him. This was meant to be a punishment. There were no mocking signs of sympathy or gestures of false kindness. Lucius hadn’t even bothered with kissing. He wasn’t touching him in any other way than to keep him still. The hands were hurting, the fingers bruising. Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to move when it was over.

It seemed, however, that no matter how fervently he told himself this wasn’t really different, that both times were rape, that whether one was tender and one brutal didn’t make any difference, that small part of him seemed insistent and he knew it was right. He much preferred last night to this. The stabbing pain deep within him and the burning as Lucius pulled and pushed himself roughly inside Harry’s tight arse drove all thought from his head.

Lost in the pain, Harry was taken slightly by surprise when he felt hot, sticky cum spilling in him and trickling down his thighs. He felt Lucius’ breath on his ear as the blonde man leaned over him, “I own you.” He pulled out. Harry watched numbly as Lucius left the room, his robes still on the floor, not bothering with so much as a backward glance.


	5. Chapter 5

_“Hey, Potter, care to help me peel my shrivel fig?” Harry jumped slightly at the familiar lighthearted drawl in his left ear, but forced himself not to reach for the wand next to him. In the past year and a half everyone in the castle seemed to have figured out that sneaking up on him wasn’t a good idea, he had a tendency to hex before looking, but Draco Malfoy, after having been blasted across the library a few months back, had made it very clear he enjoyed playing with fire and that it was actually a sort of turn on._

_As a result Harry had become very good at listening to his surroundings no matter what he was doing. Despite the fact he had been rocking Evan, studying, and eating a quick dinner he had still heard Draco trying to sneak up on him. He rolled his eyes at the suggestive tone behind the comment and lulled his head back, careful not to shift the little one year old in his arms. “Sod off, Malfoy, that has got to be the most horrid line you’ve tried yet.”_

_Draco feigned indignity as he took the seat next to Harry and held his arms out for the baby, which was hastily handed over, “What, worse then ‘my snake has something it’d like to say to you?’”_

_Harry groaned as he remembered, but it was choked off by laughter. “No. No, I don’t think anything could ever beat the snake bit.”_

_Draco leaned back, holding the bundle securely in his arms as it shifted. “Just wait till you hear the next one.”_

_“You got a list, or something?”_

_“Not for you, Potter, but I did buy a chat up book and it’s brilliant.”_

_Harry chuckled somewhat, but eyed the baby nervously as it made ominous signs of waking. “The great Draco Malfoy is resorting to chat up books. Are you that hard up?”_

_Draco’s smirk faltered, but only for a moment, then he looked down at the opening grey eyes in his lap, “Well, hello, Evan, what are you doing up?” The baby made a soft cooing noise and reached out for Harry, falling asleep nearly the moment he was in his fathers’ arms. “He really is like a little leech, now isn’t he?”_

_Harry raised one eyebrow, “He’s driving me absolutely mad. Bad enough studying for both NEWTS and final exams, but he refuses to let me put him down.”_

_There was a long silence. Harry often complained to Draco about Evan’s clinginess. It was no secret, however, that he would be far more upset had it gone the other way. After nearly five minutes, Draco finally cleared his throat, “Harry?”_

_Harry looked up, shocked, Draco only ever used his given name when it was serious. “You all right? You sou... anxious.”_

_After a moment, the blonde frowned, “Well, I just. I wanted to tell you that I...” he blushed a slight pink, “really liked the party last night.”_

_Raising a quizzical eyebrow, Harry tried not to laugh, “You liked Evan’s birthday party? I thought you spent the entire thing complaining about your fear of clowns?”_

_“Yeah, but I...” Draco looked to the side, nervously and Harry shrugged. Whoever knew what went through a Malfoy’s head, “I really enjoyed talking to you...”_

_He trailed off again as Harry started laughing, “You talk with me all the time.” His smile dropped. “Malfoy, what’s wrong? You’re turning all shades of red.”_

_Draco stood up and took a deep breath, “I liked talking with you because I...” he took another deep steadying breath, “fancy you.”_

_For a moment the silence was absolutely deafening. Harry sat, seemingly glued to his seat, staring up at Draco who looked like a very ripe tomato. “You fancy me?” Draco nodded. “As in... fancy me? Like dating and... well, other things that go along with?”_

_Staring back, Harry could see Draco getting annoyed, but he wasn’t sure how he should react. The son of the man who had raped him was confessing he ‘fancied him.’ He wasn’t sure if he should be upset or flattered. Draco looked so much like his father and, at times, acted like him, too, but Harry was quite clear in that Draco was not Lucius, no matter the similarities. Still._

_Shifting on his feet, Draco nodded, “Yes, dating and ‘other thing that go along with.’” Harry stood up, suddenly uncomfortable with the way Draco was towering over him, but he felt as though a bucket of ice water had been poured over him and gripped Evan tighter, trying to keep from falling over. The blonde reached forward, both steadying Harry and keeping a hand under the one year old, just in case._

_Harry jerked back, but allowed Draco to take Evan. His head felt very light. He stared back, openly, at the boy in front of him. Evan had woken up from being jostled and although he did not seem pleased with the pass off he had cuddled deeper into his brother’s arms. It was so wrong, but Harry couldn’t exactly point out why._

_Draco’s annoyance melted, and he smiled softly, almost too softly for his Malfoy features, “Harry, I’m not saying I want to start sleeping with you now, or anything, or even that we have to date. You don’t even have to like me. I just wanted you to know. Sometimes it seems like you purposefully stay away from other people, like you don’t think they could like you after what happened.”_

_Harry blanched further and decided sitting down was a good idea. Draco knelt down as well, in front of the chair, smirking, “It’s not true, you know, a lot of people still like you. I like you. I just happen to find you incredibly attractive, as well.”_

_Looking down into the familiar grey eyes of the other teen, Harry tried to put words together. “You... I... this isn’t... it’s not that I don’t find you attractive, too, but...”_

_“You find me attractive?”_

_There was a mischievous glint in his eye that reminded Harry of when they played Quiddittch and the soft smile turned into a devious smirk. “Yes, dammit, I’d be hard pressed not to, but I don’t think I’m exactly ready to... to fancy you back.”_

_Draco’s smirk broadened, “Oh, that’s fine. You don’t have to. Not just yet anyway.” He stood, looking down at the soundly sleeping baby in his arms. “You look knackered, why don’t I take him down to the dungeons and let Snape have a go for the night?”_

_Harry nodded slowly, waiting until the doors had closed behind Draco to start breathing again. Draco Malfoy fancied him and for some strange reason he couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his face._

 

____________________

 

Consciousness was slowly returning to Harry, though he couldn’t yet recall having lost it in the first place. His cheek was pressed against something cold and hard, it felt like some sort of tile, or maybe marble. Suddenly remembering where he was, or, more particular, whose house he was in, he groaned softly. Marble, then.

He opened his eyes with difficulty, forcing them to focus. His glasses were in front of him, stems open as though they’d fallen off. That was right, they had. He’d heard them and vaguely recalled being momentarily worried before falling asleep. Or perhaps ‘passing out’ was a better term for it. Shifting slightly on the floor, in an effort to stop his hip digging further into the over hard surface, he gave a muffled cry of pain and held himself completely still.

The little sound seemed to echo through the room, as he breathed deeply, evenly, hoping the will away the burning, stabbing sensation running from his ass up his spine and down both legs. It had never hurt like that before. Not that he had much experience, but neither of the two times had left him so hard pressed to even move. After several minutes of breathing, he steeled himself from making sound and surged to his feet, only to have the blood rush to his head. The sudden dizziness mixed with excruciating pain caused him to fall to his knees, and he leaned over them, pressing his forehead against the marble. Great, his head hurt, too.

As he sat kneeling on the floor, the memory of his dream came back to him. Draco smiling that impish little smile and smirking and those stupid chat up lines he hadn’t stopped using, although he’d found himself repeating a few after so many years. Draco was dead. How could Harry have forgotten that? No, forgotten wasn’t the right word, it was just that Evan had come first. Evan always came first.

Now, though, it was fairly obvious that Lucius had no intentions of hurting Evan, which was good, as it gave Harry the time he needed to asses his situation, and bad, because the assessment inevitably led to thinking about Draco. He opened his eyes to stare at the floor blankly.

He’d spent the whole day planning how he would tell the young blonde that he wanted to try dating; he’d spent longer imagining his reaction. He would wait quietly in the library, as he often did, for Draco to find him. It wouldn’t take long. When he tried one of his lines, no matter which one, Harry would say something agreeable and watch the confusion play across the features. Then he’d get up and walk out, turning just long enough at the library door to say ‘Oh, and Draco? I think I just may fancy you, after all.’

Draco would give the half stunned, half hopeful look he always did when Harry so much as breathed praise in his direction. It was a fairly new development, over the last year, when he started pointing out things he liked.

‘Hey, you didn’t grease your hair back! I think I like it.’

‘Malfoy, watch yourself or you’ll get sunburnt.’ Malfoys don’t burn, Potter. ‘Good, cause I wouldn’t want you to ruin that perfect porcelain skin of yours.’ ...What’s that supposed to mean? Potter. Potter, get back here and answer me!

‘Not wearing your usual black robes of foreboding today?’ Stupid house elf didn’t get around to them. ‘It’s nice. The color brings out your eyes.’

Harry pressed his head harder into the cold surface. Gods, what was he going to tell his son? Draco was his big brother, possibly the only one Evan obeyed, because Merlin knew he didn’t obey his father. He looked up to his father, he emulated his father, he wanted to make his father happy, but all that was on the condition that he didn’t have to actually follow any of the rules Harry had set for him.

Of course, in retrospect, he now knew exactly how Snape felt; it was enough to make him want to wring the little boy’s neck sometimes. Not that he would. His famous short temper did not extend to Evan. He had been known to blow death eaters into tinier pieces than they could find for breathing loudly, but he didn’t have it in himself to so much as lecture his son properly. Draco had always found it amusing, he’d stand on the side lines with one of those perfectly shaped blonde eyebrows raised. Damn, he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Finally forcing himself to stand, Harry gripped the table for support. He focused on the thought of taking a long, steaming hot bath. Not that the idea of getting naked in Lucius Malfoy’s bathroom did anything for him, but that healing soap did. Hobbling slowly down the hall, Harry concentrated on what Lucius had said earlier. If he was good, he’d at least get to see Evan again that day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

For someone who had sated himself twice in less than twenty four hours with the object of a five year obsession, Lucius Malfoy found that he was hardly feeling anymore satisfied than he had the day before. He’d spent his entire work day, rounding quickly on its eighth hour, contemplating the Potter issue.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed taking the young man, he had. In fact, thinking about for any longer than necessary led to rather detailed fantasies about doing it again. The Potter issue was that he wanted more. He wanted to dark haired wizard under him, begging him, writhing in pleasure. He wanted to see those famous green eyes unfocused in passion.

Lucius eyed the door to his office ominously as he slid his hand under the desk, rubbing himself in slow circles. If what his son had told him was true, it wouldn’t be all that difficult. According to Draco, Potter had never had sex of the willing sort. All it would really take was showing him how good it could feel and it wouldn’t be long before he had Harry begging him.

His eyes fell on the paper in front of him as he unzipped his pants and pulled his cock out, stroking it. Harry and Evan’s disappearance was all over the Daily Prophet. The front page was plastered with a picture of the Potter father and son. The photo Harry was making every attempt to drag photo Evan from the frame (Potters snap shots were known to be empty quite a bit of the time), but the five year old kept dragging his feet and digging his heels into the ground, refusing to let go of his father.

Lucius concentrated on the up and down heave of Harry’s chest and distinct flush that had come into his cheeks as he tired to gently manhandle the young boy. His climax hit him far harder and far faster than he had anticipated. Cum hit the desk and he sighed, both in frustration and relief.

Staring down at the mess on top of his desk, He ran a lazy finger through the fluid. It was much thinner than usual, but then it had been a while since he’d managed to go three times in such quick succession. He smirked down at the Daily Prophet. Photo Harry had given up and dropped to his knees, tickling his son in retribution for having to stay within the frame.

As he watched the scene play out in front of him, he lazily ran his finger over his tongue, tasting the salty mix of his own skin mixed with cum. Lucius was actually rather anxious to get back to the mansion.

 

____________________

 

It had been a beautiful day, the sky had been scantly filled with fluffy white clouds, the sun had been bright, and there was a pleasant breeze that shook the trees every few minutes. Harry had spent hours staring out the large bay window in Lucius’ room. After his bath he’d found he was unable to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Lucius, or heard his voice, so he’d sat down at the window and taken in everything of the Malfoy grounds that he could see.

Draco had spent hours reminiscing over his childhood; giving Harry detailed descriptions about the evergreen fields of grass that he’d flown his broom, and chased the well trained magical creatures that roamed around. Now that Harry had a chance to see it for himself he had to admit it was rather enchanting. Every blade of the grass on the extensive field was the same shade of green and trimmed to exactly the same height. Beyond the field was a forest, not at all as dark and forbidden looking as the one at Hogwarts, in fact, it gave Harry the impression that he’d like to stroll through it.

Not that Harry was fooled for even a moment, there were probably more deadly creatures roaming there than the Forbidden forest at the school had ever hosted, they probably just weren’t quite as rare. Hagrid did have a flare for the unusual.

The sun was setting in the most magnificent array of orange and purple. The colors cast off the top of the tree and the shadows of the forest deepened, becoming both ominous and, in some odd way, romantic. He got the feeling that he’d like to take a moonlight stroll through it.

Despite the fact that he did not turn around, Harry was aware of the door opening behind him shortly after the last of the color had faded. He listened intently as the boots thudded across the carpeted floor, tracing the progressing sound with the layout of the room. Lucius had stopped next to the bed. For a few minutes there was no sound at all, and Harry got the impression he was being watched, but said nothing, made no movement himself.

When he finally heard the rustling of a cloak being removed, he found himself jumping slightly, his hand moving ever so slightly toward the pocket his wand would usually be stored in. He flinched as he remembered it was empty; his wand was in Evan’s bedroom, lying uselessly on the floor.

Of course, there was a bright side. This would not be the first time he had taken Evan and left the castle with no notice. Once before, some years ago, Harry had received word that one of Voldemort’s followers had managed to get into the castle and was bidding his or her time before striking. He’d packed some of Evan’s things and left, waiting till there was word the Death Eater had been captured. So, it wasn’t entirely out of character for Harry and Evan to disappear without warning and without taking much more than the small boy’s emergency pack. What would be impossible for Dumbledore, or anyone else, to believe was that he would leave his wand behind and his wards down.

No one would believe that. Not even Filch, who still thought of him as an irresponsible, snot nosed, little twit.

He heard Lucius unlacing his boots and flinched. He wasn’t sure he could handle another round this soon; hell, he wasn’t even sure he was handling what had happened in that morning, yet.

There was another lengthy pause before the barefooted aristocrat made his way around the bed and towards the young man in the window. His son had said that Harry was very aware of his surroundings, that he could read what was going on around him without having to see it. He could now see for himself it was no exaggeration. Every movement he made caused the muscles in Harry’s body to tense, most especially when he’d taken his cloak and shoes off.

Ignoring the jumpy movements of the raven haired man, Lucius walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Enjoying the view, love?”

He shuddered, the muscles in his shoulder tensing under Lucius’ hand. “The grounds are very nice. A little too clinical, perhaps, but otherwise…” Harry suddenly saw an image of Evan playing on the Quiditch pitch, while Harry watched the team practices. “Is Evan allowed outside? I mean, maybe I could take him out to play, he likes it outside.”

He could hear the smirk in Lucius’ voice, “If you behave.” The manicured hand slipped under Harry’s collar, massaging the shoulder gently. “Tonight, however, I thought we would try something different.”

Harry bit back the immediate thought; to try something new you had to have a routine in the first place and they, in no way, had a routine. He closed his eyes and felt Lucius kneeling down behind him, one hand staying on his shoulder, the other resting itself on his hip.

Lucius waited patiently for the body in front of him to relax before sliding his hand further in Harry’s lap and slowly rubbing Harry’s flaccid penis under his palm. “Is it true, Harry, that you’ve never had sex willingly; that after I took you at sixteen you never so much as looked in another man or woman’s direction?”

Harry scowled, clamping his mouth shut and trying to think about anything but the building pleasure in his groin. It was very, very hard to ignore. It was true, it was more true than anyone knew, but what bothered Harry more was where Lucius might have gotten that information.

As if reading his mind, Lucius chuckling, slowly running his tongue up Harry’s neck, flicking ear lobe and dropping his voice to a sexual purr, “I tortured every detail of your life from Draco. I know who your favorite students are. I know that you let Evan help you grade some of your more basic tests. I know your favorite color in green, but that it would take more threats than I’m willing dole out to get you to admit it.”

The hand was pressing harder now, stroking the unwilling cock, forcing it to harden. “I know that last New Year my son kissed you. I know it was your first real kiss since before Evan was born.” The fingers shifted just slightly and the buttons came undone. Harry couldn’t decide whether it took too long or wasn’t fast enough.

Long fingers wrapped themselves around his cock and he couldn’t help from reaching behind himself, gripping Lucius thighs for support as his back arched at the contact. “Was it good, Harry?” Harry half sobbed, half moaned at the questioned. He didn’t want to think about Draco right now, Draco was dead, it wasn’t right, but he couldn’t help himself, not with that hand slowly working over his shaft and the hot air blowing against his neck.

“He told me every detail, like he was escaping. He told me how he had just helped you put Evan to bed and you two were sitting in the Astronomy Tower, making sure none of the students crept up there after hours. He told me you were drinking, but only enough to get buzzed, nothing heavy. He said that he leaned over and told you that you owed him a birthday present.”

Harry clenched his fists tighter into the fine material on Lucius’ legs, feeling his short finger nails ripping into it, trying to tear into the flesh. He wanted him to stop, but couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“And you scoffed at him, and told him you never exchanged birthday presents, that Draco thought it was passé. Then he leaned closer, and you kind of caught your breath, and your eyes misted over, and he said he was allowed to change his mind. He kissed you, softly at first,” the stroke slowed, fingers unclenched slightly, “but when you reacted he put a hand on the back of your neck and deepened in.”

The fingers tightened, but didn’t speed up. Harry felt his mouth open, to beg for more, but forced it to close. “He pushed his tongue into your mouth and you still didn’t pull away, in fact, you reciprocated. You kissed him just as passionately as he was kissing you. What did he taste like, Harry? Did he taste like the butterbear, or something else? He said you tasted like peppermint, he wasn’t even sure why.”

The hand sped up slightly and Harry gave a half cry as he came, energy pouring out of his body as he spilled over Lucius’ hand. As suddenly as though he’d been slapped, the reality of the situation came back to him. He pulled away, turning around on his knees to face the blonde wizard, tears had started leaking down his face, “You sick sod, how dare you talk about him when you’re the one who killed him? How dare you use his memory to... touch me like that? You’ve no right.”

Lucius raised one eyebrow and reached forward, holding his hand inches from Harry’s face. “I’d have thought you’d be grateful. Would you have rather I let you think about me. The results would have been,” he smirked at the sticky mess on the hand he was holding out, “the same, I assure you. I presumed, however, you would prefer the memory of my dead son over me; at least for now.”

Lucius stood up, staring down at the still teary eyed youth on the ground. “The house elves will bring you something to eat. You’ll see Evan tomorrow morning, assuming there are no more outbursts.”

Evan was waiting in dining room, dressed in back dinner robed, kicking his feet back and forth in the air. Lucius waited in the doorway for the child to notice his presence. It didn’t take long. The little feet stopped moving and the boy looked over, mistrusting grey eyes sweeping the doorway, “Where’s my father?”

So much like Draco. “He won’t be joining us tonight.”

“I want my father.”

Lucius ignored the command and sat down, making a motion with his wand so that food appeared on the plates in front of them. “Eat all of that and you might see him tomorrow.”

Evan didn’t pick up his fork, “I want to see him now. Where’s my father?”

Raising an eyebrow, Lucius eyed the five-year-old. “He’s in bed.”

For several minutes Evan said nothing, he stared at Lucius with an almost contemplative expression on his face, his brows knitted together in thought. Then, with a hint of the same smirk Lucius had seen so often on his own son's face, he spoke, “Is he spreading his legs for you?”

Wine splattered on the table as Lucius lost his ability to drink. “Pardon?”

There was a smug air around the child now, “That’s what father said you wanted from him. So, is that what he’s doing?” It was a critical few moments before he could compose himself enough to think properly, unfortunately, Evan didn’t have that problem. “What does that mean, anyway? Why would you want my father to spread his legs?”

Lucius stared openly, at a complete loss for the first time in quite a while. “You... were supposed to be humming.”

Evan smiled sweetly, picking up his juice with both hands, “I always listen, that’s why father always says things like that, so I won’t understand.”

What the hell was he supposed to say? He didn’t exactly think it was appropriate to actually tell him, but he had to say something. Lucius had hardly seen Draco at this age, he’d been raised almost entirely by his mother and house elves, but he somehow doubted that even his own pompous son had asked those kinds of questions at five.

Standing up too quickly, Lucius cursed his spilt wine, but didn’t bother to put the goblet upright. Instead, he marched around the table and picked up Evan, who had already put his own glass safely next to his plate. He held the child under one arm, storming as quickly as he could until they were outside the master suite. Then he set him on the ground, making sure he was standing right and opened the door, nudging the boy’s shoulder to indicate he should move forward.

Evan seemed somewhat trepidatious until he caught sight of his father sitting, once again, with his back to the door, “Father!”

Harry stood up and turned around at the same time, stumbling as he was caught off guard by the sound of Evan’s voice, but there was an instant smile on his face. “Oh gods, Evan, are you okay?”

Lucius could hardly help the smirk that crept onto his face as Harry knelt down in front of the boy, once again seeming to be checking for marks. “Do you intend to do that every time, love?”

“Yes.” He didn’t like the snappy tone, but dismissed it as he saw how red Harry’s eyes were. So, he’d been crying the whole time. Lucius wondered whether it was for Draco or the fact he wouldn’t be seeing his son. Perhaps it was both.

Remembering what he had come for, Lucius crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, Evan, ask your father.”

Evan smiled sweetly back at the blonde man, his eyes as innocent as though he didn’t have a clue what Lucius was talking about, “Aren’t you my father, too?”

“Just ask him.”

The smile broadened, “I don’t understand.”

A knowing look crossed Harry’s face, but he said nothing, waiting for someone to tell him what was going on.

“Ask your father what you asked me in the dining hall.”

Evan turned back, head high, “I asked him where you were, and he told me you were in the bedroom.” He looked very proud of himself, too proud.

Harry forced himself not to laugh as Lucius slit his eyes dangerously. “You... Potter, tell him what spreading your legs meant.”

“Lucius!” Harry’s jaw dropped, “If you want to say things like that around him, tell him to hum.”

Lucius fought the urge to either curse Harry for talking to him that way or scream. Neither seemed very dignified. He opened his mouth to speak, but had to shut it again as the first thing that came to mind was ‘He said it first.’ Taking a deep breath, he composed himself, “You’re son asked me what it meant and I felt that you would be the best person to handle the situation.”

Harry turned to look at Evan who was still smiling, “Is that true?”

The smile dropped slightly, “Yes, but I only did it because he wouldn’t let me see you.”

Lucius’ left eye had begun to twitch. Little prat had played him for it. He’d known that if he made Lucius uncomfortable enough he’d see his father, so he’d purposefully asked the most embarrassing question he could think of.

Harry seemed nonplussed, and brushed a stray strand of hair behind Evan’s ear, “I wanted to see you, too, but where did you hear that?”

Where did he...? Where did Potter think he heard it? As far as Lucius knew it wasn’t a term commonly used around Hogwarts.

Evan hung his head, a small pout forming on his lips, “You.”

“Evan James Potter, I told you to hum. You know that means you aren’t supposed to listen.”

“I know!” Evan looked up, throwing his arms around his father’s neck, “You were so mad, though, I couldn’t help it.”

Harry didn’t look as though he believed that, but he wrapped his arms around Evan and drew him into his lap, “It’s all right, but do you really want to know?”

Evan smiled a little at this, shaking his head enthusiastically. Lucius took a step forward, his first instinct to take the child away now that issue was resolved. Harry didn’t move. He didn’t tense, or grip his son tighter, in fact, he seemed to have started smiling, just a small, content smile.

The past twenty four hours had taught Lucius that Harry was very aware of his surroundings. It had appeared to be just as Draco said, nothing could truly distract him. Apparently, he was wrong. Lucius got the distinct impression that the entire house could have come down around them and Harry wouldn’t have noticed.

Turning around, Lucius stepped outside and closed the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

Harry languidly stroked Evan’s silk black hair as he had been doing for hours. After Lucius had left the small boy had curled up on the floor and fallen asleep with his head in his father’s lap. It was peaceful, almost too much so. For the first hour Harry had expected Lucius to come and separate them, but he hadn’t. Eventually, he’d settled down, and relaxed, though sleep had been impossible.

Evan shifted on his lap, probably dreaming about something or other. It didn’t really matter. He had wanted to take Evan off the floor and allow him to be more comfortable, but couldn’t bring himself to put his son on the bed Lucius had raped him in, so he’d relented to sitting upright against the wall next to the window, thinking.

His thoughts, unfortunately, had been his other sleep deterrent. He kept thinking about Draco, kept thinking about the scene Lucius had forced him to replay earlier that evening. It had been strange, at the time. There had been so much behind that kiss, so much love and it had scared him. What scared him more, though, was that the feeling had more than obviously been mutual. If he hadn’t stopped it when he did, he could have guaranteed it would have turned into more than ‘just a kiss.’

Of course, once he’d been given the night to think it over, he’d come to the conclusion that he couldn’t, that it was a mistake, that it had been the stupid moon, and the alcohol, and stars, and all the goddamned romance that shouldn’t have been there, that had never been a part of Harry’s life.

That was what really ate Harry up in the end. He’d told Draco it was a mistake; that it couldn’t happen again. The statement had hurt the other man, but he’d done a famous job of covering it up, smirking and telling Harry that ‘yeah, it probably was, but it was a damned decent one at that.’

It had been decent, it had been more than decent; it had been the best bloody kiss Harry’d ever had. Not that he had very many others, but it had left him tingling all over and more than slightly tempted to have a wank before his son woke up.

He hadn’t though, because Harry, despite everything, had not masturbated in nearly six years. He just couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes he felt the pillow smothering his face, felt the panic and the pain all over again. In the end, what with taking care of Evan and school and then teaching, he just didn’t have the time. That and he wasn’t alone very often.

That kiss had been the first time since shortly after his rape that he’d been truly tempted to try sexual gratification. He hadn’t even done much of it before then. That was the Dursleys fault. It wasn’t like he’d been sat aside and told the facts of life like everyone else, then they would have had to worry about more little freaks running around. He’d had to find out the basics of sex on his own and masturbation from a very embarrassed Ron, who’d tried to explain to Harry why he kept waking up with stiff bits.

The sun had risen some time ago; it was fairly bright outside, but still a pale blue, so it had to be early. The sun was rising at around five in the morning, school would let out in a two months. Evan’s birthday was creeping up, as well. Draco had wanted to buy Evan a toy broom for his birthday, which Harry had forbidden because of the boy’s tendency not to listen to his father that would inevitable get him hurt while flying around Hogwarts. It didn’t matter what Harry said, though, Draco was… no, he would have gotten it, anyway. He was as bad as Evan. There was absolutely no way for Harry to put his foot down with the two of them.

He closed his eyes passively as he heard Lucius’ boots thudding against the heavy rug in the hall. The door opened softly, but didn’t close and the older wizard stood at the doorway a few moments, probably analyzing the scene before him. He didn’t bother to close it behind him. “You’re not asleep.”

Harry shrugged, “I wasn’t actually pretending to be.”

Evan sighed in his sleep, cuddling further against his father’s leg and clutching the robe protectively as though he sensed impending separation. Harry started stroking his head again, not entirely sure when he had stopped, and watched him carefully for signs he was waking up.

Lucius leaned against the wall, with his arms folded neatly over his chest, saying nothing for a time. It felt impossible long to Harry, who stared unfocused at his son’s head. When the older man finally pushed off Harry couldn’t help tensing up. He did not want to give his son up when he had no clue how long it would be before they saw each other again.

“Wake him up; he needs to be in his own bed.”

Wake him up? Actually wake him up? Was he entirely insane? Harry felt the numbness that had settled in over the hours slipping away. Wake up a five-year-old to put him back to bed? Did he even know what he was asking? His mouth opened before he could stop it, “Have you lost your mind?”

Lucius eye twitched. He had spent the last hours at his desk rather than in bed and, if he was really lucky, he would get to lay down for an hour or so before heading to the ministry. He was not in the mood to listen to Potter’s insolence at the moment. “Harry, love, either wake him up or risk incurring my wrath. The choice is up to you.”

The green eyes sparkled for a moment before Harry gave into soft, restrained laughter. “Oh, pardon me, I wouldn’t want to ‘incur your wrath.’ Only you don’t go willfully waking five-year-olds this early in the morning.”

Lucius stood straighter, his voice raising. “This is my manor, you are my prisoner, and you will do as I say. Wake up our son so that he can sleep in his room.”

Harry winced as he felt Evan stir in his lap. The boy sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily until they settled on Lucius. He glared at the death eater, scooting closer to his father. “What’s he doing here?”

Lucius eye twitched again, his patience quickly coming to an end. He walked over to the two and glared back at the child, “Get up.”

Evan threw his arms around his father protectively, “No.”

Taking deep breaths, Lucius turned his gaze to Harry, who sighed and began rubbing Evan’s back reassuring, “Evan, why don’t you go with Mr. Malfoy, take a short nap, and I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“But, father, I don’t want to go to bed, I’m not tired. Why can’t I stay with you?”

After a short pause, in which Harry seemd to be contemplating something, he looked up at Lucius and held his eye. “Because Mr. Malfoy won’t let you.”

There was a thirty second pause, in which Lucius got the feeling that he was in no way going to enjoy what was about to happen. Evan turned around to him, eyes brimming with tears, “Why can’t I stay?”

He restrained himself from scowling. The child was obviously upset and it would not do to further the situation. “You are too old to be sleeping with your fathers.”

“Who says?”

“I do.”

“Well, I don’t like you. Besides, you’re not my father; I don’t have to listen to you.”

Harry paled slightly at his son’s defiant proclamation. He looked up at the elder wizard and saw the barely suppressed rage in Lucius’ face. “L… Lucius?” He hated himself for the timid quiver in his voice.

Lucius pulled his face into a determined blank mask as he addressed the child. “Stand up.”

Evan looked up at his father, “Father?”

Before Harry could answer, Lucius reached down grabbing the boy’s arm and wrenching him up. Evan gave a small pained cry, but didn’t struggle against the restraining hand. Harry, however, seemed to jerk from his fearful stupor at the sound of his son’s voice and stood as well, staring at Lucius with a mix of stubborn determination. “Let him go.”

Without hesitation Lucius gripped Evan’s arm tighter, raised his free hand and backhanded Harry, watching with more than a little satisfaction as the smaller man fell to the floor. He ignored Evan’s protests and weak struggles as he dragged him out of the room, magically locking the door behind them.

They had made it halfway to the room when the boy gave up struggling and instead going went entirely limp, falling to the ground and forcing Lucius to stop. The grey eyes were glistening and tears were streaming down his face. He tried to lift the child to his feet, but he only hung like a dead weight, “Get up.”

“I want my daddy, take me back.”

Lucius forced himself not to sneer, trying to think of anything he could say that wouldn’t upset the sobbing boy any further. Damn he was absolutely no good with children, especially those with no respect or discipline. Why couldn’t Evan be more like Draco? Why couldn’t he just do what he was told without asking questions?

Oh, but of course, Lucius reminded himself, he couldn’t well be sure what Draco was like at this age. He’d seen him only at dinner and on holidays, sometimes not even then if he was too busy. It hadn’t been till Draco started Hogwarts that he took any real interest and then it was to instruct him on how to behave.

Evan stopped trying to pull his arm out of Lucius’ grip, which was holding it at an awkward angle, and instead resorted to full out bawling, his nose running unattractively. At the moment there was nothing Lucius wanted more than to take him back to Harry and just hand him over, make him stop, but couldn’t bring himself to reward the display.

Leaning down, he picked Evan up and put him over his shoulder and trying to keep the little legs from kicking him in the face; as it was he was probably going to have very prominent bruises on his chest and back.

“Put me down! I want my daddy, put me down!”

Oh, great Merlin, his ears were ringing. He dropped Evan unceremoniously onto the child-sized bed and stooped down to grip the little arms to his sides, off handedly noting how small they were. “Shut up.”

Evan’s wails softened, though the tears were pouring just as fast. Letting go, Lucius started for the door only to find himself stopped by a pair of arms throwing themselves around one of his legs. Looking down, he saw the desperate look in the sniveling child’s face and tried not to outwardly winch. “Let go.”

“Please? I’ll be r... really good. I’ll s... sit still and I w... won’t make a sound and... and I won’t talk back ever, ever again.”

Lucius glared down, “You most certainly will not, now let go.”

Evan dropped his arms, realizing he was upsetting the man even more. “But I want... I want daddy. Please?”

Without bothering to reply, Lucius swept out the room, closing the door behind him, and cringing as the wailing started up again, echoing down the hall. Merlin’s balls that was obnoxious. He had a flash of the Weasley family and found himself shuddering slightly at the thought of seven.

When he returned to the master suite Harry was sitting up where he had fallen, his knees pressed up to his chest. He looked much younger than twenty-two at the moment; in fact, he greatly resembled the teenager Lucius had taken so many years back.

He seemed lost in thought and didn’t notice Lucius had returned for several moments; when he did he seemed to shrink in on himself, “If you hurt him, Malfoy, I swear to…”

Lucius waved his hand, interrupting him, “Don’t swear, it’s unbecoming. Evan is unharmed, though he was very distressed at the idea of leaving you.”

Harry’s face relaxed visibly, the fear ebbed away and the tension left his body. He stood up shakily, looking at the floor to avoid Lucius’ gaze. “He’s never talked back like that before. Not even when Snape wouldn’t put chocolate in his milk when he was three. I didn’t... I thought he’d throw his usual temper tantrum and you’d let him stay to shut him up. That’s what he usually does.”

Taking his clothes off methodically Lucius watched Harry from the corner of his eye, enjoying the way he flinched almost imperceptibly as buttons were undone. “He did that, too. He called you daddy. Rather surprising, actually, I wasn’t excepting that.”

“He does it when he’s really upset. I used to try and get him to call me daddy or dad or something other than that impersonal ‘father’ bit, but Snape and Draco always referred to me as father and eventually Evan picked up on it. He’d do anything Draco said to.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Lucius watched Harry’s eyes become unfocused for a moment, before he suddenly stood straight and walked around to the other side of the bed, his face now determined and his voice ringing slightly of sarcasm, “Any particular way you want me?”

Oh, very clever. He was distancing himself with a complicating mix of compliancy and defiance. Do what is required, but in a way that won’t please. Perhaps Lucius had made it a little too clear that he enjoyed the fear behind their last encounters. Of course, he very much intended to do something about it and now was as good a time as any.

Raising an aristocratic eyebrow, he strode elegantly around the bed, watching the tension mount with every step he took. “Oh no, Love, I think your fine right where you are.”

“Going to fuck me standing up, then?”

Putting an arm firmly around Harry’s waist, Lucius smirked, “Oh, no, it’s far too difficult, and not nearly as pleasurable as you might think. No, I have no intentions of fucking you tonight.”

Harry faltered, “No?”

“No.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harry’s, massaging them. Very slowly he started to work his tongue into the warmth mouth under his, running against lips, then teeth. When Harry finally relented, Lucius had to repress a moan. He could feel the smaller man slowly relaxing in his arms, his mouth softening against the invasion.

A loud pop issued through the room. “Eek!”

Lucius was too shocked by the sudden squeal to keep his captive from jumping back. Harry had pressed himself, half hunched over, against the nightstand, one hand steadying himself, the other pressed in obvious repulsion against his mouth. Damn, that had been so close; another few seconds and Harry would have been putty in his hands.

Turning his attention to the cause of the disruption, he saw a house elf standing in the center of the room, it’s ears back in fear as it looked up at its’ Master. Lucius scowled down at it, “You are supposed to be watching the boy.”

“Yes, Master Malfoy, sir, I’m sorry Master Malfoy, sir.”

Lucius crossed his arms over his chest, trying to look as intimidating as possible while willing away what had been “Well?”

The house elf, Mimi, gave another squeak and trembled harder. “It’s Young Master Potter, sir.”

Harry suddenly looked up, his hand dropped form his face, “What about Evan? He hasn’t hurt himself, has he?”

Raising an eyebrow at the dark-haired man, Lucius smirked “I highly doubt your son is into self mutilation, love.”

“You would be surprised what a five-year-old will do for attention.”

Mimi began nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, sirs. Evan is saying he wants his father and he is screaming, so I goes to check and tells him he can’t because Mr. Malfoy is forbidding it.” Lucius winched. “And he says he’ll hold his breath till I get Master Potter, sir.”

“Let him.”

Lucius started to turn away, but Mimi stumbled forward anxiously, “Master Malfoy, sir, I did. Mimi tells him she won’t, but he keeps passing out. So, I thinks it’s better to get Master Potter, sir, before Master Evan hurts himself.”

Harry looked at Lucius with a careful blank expression, “That, Lucius, *love*, is why I’m so lenient.”

Lucius dismissed the sarcasm in the tone. “Mimi, you are to bring Evan here and then send word to the Ministry that I will be coming in late. Tell them I have family business to attend; if anything important should arise, they can contact me.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

Lucius knew that he was quickly losing what little sanity he had managed to retain over the years. He wasn’t just obsessed, he was something that went well beyond a simple obsession. This was ridiculous. This was him sitting in a chair next to his bed watching the two Potter’s curled around each other while they slept.

Actually, he could not be entirely sure Harry was asleep. After rocking Evan to sleep on the bed, Harry had simply lain down next to him and hadn’t moved since.

And the crying! Until that morning Lucius had been blissfully unaware that anyone could make that kind of noise, that loudly, and for that long. He had tortured people and animals for days on end, even till death, and he had never heard anything like that before.

Harry’s eyes opened, clear and alert. “You’ve been sitting there the whole time. Why don’t you lie down, or leave? I’m sure you can think of something else to do besides watch us.”

“I’m thinking.”

Harry creased his brow, “About what?”

“How anything that small can make that much noise.” To his great surprise, Harry buried his head in a pillow and laughed. “I’m glad you find it amusing.”

The raven-haired wizard looked up, eyes twinkling, “That was nothing. You should have heard him when I took my NEWTS.”

“You didn’t take him in with you?” It was meant sarcastically, but Harry simply smiled.

“Not until after the first written exam. We could hear him screaming in the dungeons and by the time I was released to go quiet him down Snape’s ears were ringing. I never thought he’d agree to watch Evan again.”

Lucius said nothing else, content to watch Harry languidly stroking Evan’s hair. It was strange to think that so many people could be drawn to one person. Harry was like a magnet of attraction and Evan was turning out to be no better. To think, the famous sultry Potions Master of Hogwarts babysitting a screaming brat and agreeing to do it again.

That was definitely not the Severus Lucius had known in school. In school Severus would have sooner drowned a helpless infant than rock it to sleep. That was one of the many things Draco had informed Lucius of. Snape was not only taken in by the spoiled little Potter child, he was one of the chief reasons Evan was spoiled in the first place. According to Draco all the five-year-old had to do was pout and Snape gave in.

Harry sighed into the silence, “Why does it come as such a surprise, anyway? You had a son before, might not have been very fond of him, but you had one and he had to have been little at one point.”

Lucius scowled at the memory of Draco as a child, spilling things, knocking things over, making a general nuisance of himself. “I was hardly around him when he was that age; I preferred to stay as far away from him and my wife as possible.”

“So, Draco wasn’t kidding when he said he was raised by house elves and nurse maids.”

“No, he wasn’t. The only times I took him out was to introduce him to pure blood families with female children.” Harry frowned and Lucius found himself smirking at the discontent. “Yes, Harry, I was trying to set up some sort of arranged marriage, but he took to none of them, so they never went through. Although, I think the Parkinson child may have been overly fond of the idea, she never did give it up.”

Harry sat up on the bed, still stroking his son, “Of course he didn’t take to any of them, Draco was stone cold gay. I don’t think I ever saw him take interest in any girl, unless you count Pansy, who was more of a rather ugly ornament than anything else.”

“The only one who ever caught my son’s eye was you.”

With a derisive chuckle, Harry shook his head, “Until Evan was born the only thing Draco wanted was to make my life miserable. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what changed his mind.”

There was a rather lengthy pause and Harry flinched when Lucius suddenly stood up. The silence had been somewhat unnerving, but nice all the same. Evan’s temper tantrums always gave him spectacular headaches. The blonde wizard stared down at him with that air of superiority that made Harry want to rebel, talk back, show himself to be just as powerful. If he had his wand, he would be.

“Bathe him, get him dressed, and bring him down to the parlor. He can show you the way to his room.” Without further instructions Lucius swept around the bed and into bathroom, shutting the door determinedly. So, Draco hadn’t told him about his life long obsession. It would have been interesting to see Potter’s face when he heard the truth about Draco’s miraculous switch, but it would also, most likely, cause set backs in his plan.

Lucius remembered well the first day he had taken his son to Diagon Alley. Draco had been left in Madame Malkin’s while he attended business elsewhere and when he’d returned all he had heard about for the rest of the day was ‘the boy with brilliant green eyes.’

‘You should have seen them, father, they were like emeralds. He was really quiet though; I wonder what he sounds like. I wonder if he’ll be put in Slytherin, he might have been a pure blood. I hope he is. With those eyes he’d look stunning in green and silver.’

Years of throwing his son at every available pure blood girl and the first person he shows any interest in is a boy; a boy with green eyes; a boy he isn’t even sure is pureblood. It was outrageous. Narcissa had only made matters worse, claiming she’d always suspected as much.

If he’d thought Draco’s going back to school would have made things better, it hadn’t. Within the first week Narcissa got a letter from Draco, but not just any letter, a letter ten pages long. He didn’t even have a particular fondness for the woman and he was writing her ten pages, every one of which was about the indignity of Harry Potter turning down his hand in friendship.

It hadn’t taken long to figure out that Harry Potter was the green-eyed boy from the robe shop. Of course, that didn’t help matters any either, but Lucius had, at the time, been glad they didn’t end up getting along. If Draco wanted to be interested in boys, fine, but he didn’t need to go as public as coming onto the savior of the wizarding world.

The next few years only saw the obsession growing. Draco couldn’t stop thinking and talking about Potter incessantly and it was beginning to drive Lucius somewhat insane. He’d bought his son’s way onto the team in hopes that if Draco could beat Potter at Quidditch he might shut up.

Through five years he’d endured Narcissa insisting on reading every letter their son sent home aloud at dinner. It didn’t seem to matter that he called her irritating, she’d just continue on as though he hadn’t said anything. Perhaps it was a matter of ‘if she had to suffer, he would too.’

When Potter had been captured before sixth year the entire house had gone suddenly silent. His son, rather than gloating, simply sat quietly at the dinner table, or in his room, studying, he was positively sullen about the situation. It was almost as if he hadn’t thought it was possible for Harry Potter to not be a part of his life and now that the option had been opened he refused to discuss it.

That had been when things had gone terribly wrong. Voldemort’s original plan had not been for Potter to carry the child, as most believed. He had thought it was too risky at first; what if he were rescued, or escaped? What if he just wasn’t mentally stable enough?

Harry was intended to be the father and Draco was meant to carry the child. Still a Malfoy and a Potter, but a plan that Lucius was not pleased with. Draco, while not as small as Potter, was by no means a large child. There could be difficulties with altering the body of someone so young and while his son was gay, he could not idly stand by and watch his only heir be put in harms way.

Draco wasn’t meant to know until the night it was performed. He would be given something to drink without being told the consequences and then locked in a room with Potter, who would have been forced to take a few very strong aphrodisiacs. So Lucius had done the only thing he could think of. He told Draco the plan and watched his son turn several shades of green before saying that he was going to turn his back and ignore anything that happened within the next hour.

Narcissa had been blamed for it; her attachment to her son had always been obvious. Lucius had claimed to have seen her during the time Draco left, but it hadn’t been enough; someone had to have told him of the plans or he wouldn’t have run.

Voldemort had killed her. It wasn’t a great loss for Lucius, but Draco took it hard. To make matter worse, Potter eventually escaped and the young Malfoy heir was one of the few students who saw the state he was in before they quarantined him.

There had never been a time in Draco’s life when he had been able to look at someone and think ‘it could have been me.’ He’d always known with certainty that his father would protect him, that his pure blood line was respected, and that Voldemort would never come after him because of who his father was. Now he had been faced with several sharp realities. His mother had died, despite her pure blood, despite her death eater ties, despite having done nothing, Lucius had done nothing to save her, and Voldemort had very much wanted to do to him what had been done to an enemy.

It was for those reasons that he had gone to see Potter in the infirmary after the baby was born. Snape had mentioned it looked as though they would be sending it away soon if Harry didn’t come out of his stupor. So, he’d gone down and done what came naturally to him, he had been somewhat insulting about the child’s entirely unMalfoy-like appearance, and it had worked.

Potter took to the child and Draco took to Potter and it was absolutely nauseating to watch. At least Voldemort had taken Lucius pleas for his son’s life somewhat to heart and hadn’t killed him; Draco had been a child, he had been scared. The Dark Lord had been content to let Draco alone as long as he was not actively fighting against them.

Lucius had attributed several of his son’s strange character changes to Potter being contagious. Draco started using sappy words like ‘love,’ which made the nausea worse when mixed with his own silent obsession.

It turned out Potter was more infectious than Lucius had suspected. Finding Draco riffling through supposedly secure documents pertaining to planned attacks had come as quite a shock. It hadn’t taken long for Lucius to do the math and realize that every time one of their plans was ruined it was shortly after his son made a visit and Draco did not bother denying it.

It had, of course, been a shame killing him. He was a full-grown heir and now Lucius had to think of a way to get another. There was little doubt in his mind that Voldemort would eventually seek to obtain Evan, probably as soon as he found out the boy was at Malfoy Manor. Lucius only hoped that he could forestall the inevitable until Harry was well and broken.

 

____________________

 

Harry waited until he could hear the water running to wake up Evan, touching his shoulder, “Evan, sweetie, you need to get up.”

The little boy opened his eyes almost immediately, giving his father the impression he hadn’t been truly asleep for some time, and crawled out of the bed. Harry stepped off as well, “You’ll need to take me to your room, okay?”

Evan nodded and latched onto his father’s hand, dragging him through a series of confusing hallways. Harry was beginning to think they were cursed so that only certain people could find certain rooms.

The room lit up the moment they entered and it was even more impressive then Harry had first thought. Evan seemed to be annoyed about something and immediately went to the toy chest, digging through it till he pulled out his stuffed animal and held it protectively to his chest. “Father?”

There was a quiver in his voice, making it very clear that he was still close to tears, despite his resolute stature. Harry sat on the bed, “Come here, sweetie.”

Evan sat on his father’s lap, immediately calmer at the close contact, “Can I sleep with you again tonight? I don’t like it in here alone. It’s not like at home, it’s empty and dark, and the house elves won’t leave a light on or open a window or anything.”

Harry held Evan tighter, trying to keep his temper at the idea of his son in a dark room all alone. “I’ll talk to Mr. Malfoy, okay? Meanwhile,” Harry quickly scanned the walls, looking for a particularly large magical creature, and pointing once he’d found it, “what’s that over there?”

“A dragon. Why?”

“Remember what big brother Draco told you about them?”

“That wherever there was a dragon he would be watching over me.” Evan held out the stuffed animal in his hand proudly, “That’s why he gave me this, so he would always know I was okay.”

Harry hugged Evan, trying to keep the pain from showing behind his eyes, “That’s right, Evan. So, see, nothing bad can happen to you because you’ve got two big brothers watching over you.”

“I’ve got a whole herd!” The little boy moved off his father’s lap, crawling across the bed to the wall space behind it. Harry could just make out a dark cave entrance above the headboard and watched Evan poke it until five or six dragons of different breeds came rumbling out, clearly annoyed at having their sleep interrupted.

“Look, father!” he enthusiastically poked one, “This is a Welsh Green, like Aunt Fleur’s, and a Chinese Fireball like Viktor, but the Hungarian Horntail doesn’t stay with the others, it’s... it’s...” his face screwed up, his grey eyes narrowing in concentration, “ornery, like Uncle Severus says you are.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and pulled Evan into his lap, “Really? I’ll have you know if there was ever a proper example of ‘ornery’ it’s your uncle Severus, not me.”

“But Uncle Severus says if I don’t practice using the big words like he teaches me I’ll be an ‘incompetent, ignorant little prat’ just like my father.”

“Will you now?” Harry lifted him up and carried him into towards a door he assumed was the bathroom, “We’d better get you a bath before you turn into greasy git like Uncle Severus, then. Lord knows we wouldn’t want you turning into either of us.”

Evan threw his arms around his fathers neck, “I want to be just like you, father.”

“I know, sweetie, now let’s find out why you smell like a fruit salad.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

The fruit smells turned out to be six different smelling soaps, shampoos, and conditioners. There had been strawberry, pumpkin, kiwi, orange, cherry, and Evan’s favorite, banana. Harry had never even seen a banana smelling soap, much less contemplated using one, but at his son’s insistence he had bathed himself in it as well. It wasn’t bad, just strange and now he was having the strangest urge to eat peanut butter.

While they had been in the bath the house elves had taken their dirty robes and left clean ones. Part of Harry could not help but be grateful for the change of clothes, even if they were from Lucius Malfoy.

The robes left for him and Evan were a green so deep it could have been black, but varied otherwise. Evan’s was thick and made of soft cotton that hung to just above his ankles, making the bright red and gold socks more apparent that normal, the clasp at the neck was black with a silver lion imprint. He was rather surprised with that little detail; it had pleased Evan to no end.

Harry’s robe had been long enough to sweep the floor when he walked and the material was probably silk; shining when the light hit it and molding against his body every time he moved. The clasp was slightly larger and depicted a lion with a snake coiled at its feet. Another interesting detail, but it was slightly disturbing, not that anything about Lucius was otherwise, but it made Harry wonder how much time the aristocrat had spent planning for them. The clothes, both Evan’s and his own, were tailored to fit. Then again, for all Harry knew it could take a true seamstress only a matter of hours. He had never really thought much about it before.

As they walked into the parlor Harry could not help but be slightly impressed. It was a large room, with numerous chairs and sofas, built in bookshelves, a rather expansive looking gold magazine rack, and a patio with a small table and chairs already set for dining. The pale yellow, white and grey pin stripped walls lit the room and made it feel even larger than it’s nearly two-story height.

Lucius was seated at the table on the porch. He set the Daily Prophet he had been reading onto the table in front of him and raised an appreciative eyebrow as they walked across the room towards him. Harry fought the blush in his face, no one, not even Draco, had given him that kind of an appraising look. It was as though he were a rather valuable object.

Evan seemed to sense the tension and grabbed his father’s hand, glaring at the elder Malfoy protectively. Harry was slightly taken aback by the gesture, but only for a moment. He had forgotten Lucius dared to hit him in front of Evan. Anyone who seemed a danger to the child’s father was fair game for unobscured hatred. They had learned that when Cornelius Fudge had come to the school, claiming it was ludicrous to hire Harry Potter as a teacher.

‘The-Boy-Who-Lived was needed on the battle front, to boost the moral of the wizards fighting against the Death Eaters and Voldemort.’

Harry hadn’t been that upset by the proclamation, Dumbeldore had ensured him that Evan and he would both be staying inside Hogwarts grounds unless Harry wished it otherwise. Evan, however, had taken the beady little man rather seriously. At two years old he had grabbed a chunk of the Minister’s short curly hair and yanked on it for all he was worth. Since then they had been very careful to keep Evan away from anyone who persisted in acting aggressively towards Harry.

Lucius, however, took no notice of the death glare being sent to him by the young child. Instead, he waved his hand at the table and several platters of food appeared on it. Harry eyed the array, but said nothing as he motioned Evan to sit in the chair across from Lucius and put himself between them.

The look on Evan’s face while Harry put food on his plate was rather disturbing, but not entirely uncommon. It was the way he looked when he was planning revenge of some sort and it never lasted long. Sure enough, as soon as his plate was full he relaxed and picked up his fork, delicately eating his eggs.

If Lucius had thought Harry’s eating habits were abysmal when he was in a hurry, he was utterly horrified at the display he was watching now. In sharp contrast to his son, Harry seemed determined to pile everything on his toast; from eggs, to tomato sauce, then sausage, and, to Lucius utter horror, a small portion of oatmeal topped with brown sugar.

“I thought you said you ate that way because you were in a hurry.”

Harry gave a rather demented looking smirk, far too like Draco’s to please Lucius. “Oh, no, I always eat like this. It’s just that, when I can, I take my time.”

Despite the absurdly sloppy manner in which he ate during the next twenty minutes, Harry never once got food on his clothes, though he did have a nasty habit of licking his fingers rather than using a napkin. By the time they had finished, Lucius needed to get to the Ministry. The investigation into Potter’s disappearance would be well under way and he couldn’t afford to be missing if they decided to question him for some reason. His son was, after all, very close to The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Getting up from his seat, he nodded to Harry, who seemed slightly taken aback by the sudden movement, and ignored the very vengeful looking five year old once again glaring at him from across the table. “I’ll be going to work. You may spend the day with Evan; use his sitting room, if you like--it’s through the hidden door in the bathroom.”

Harry scrunched his nose up curiously, “He has a sitting room?”

“Every child’s quarters in Malfoy Manor is equipped with one, so yes.”

“Why does a child need a sitting room?”

“Its purpose varies. Usually it is the nurse maid’s quarters until the child goes to school, then it becomes a study and small library as needed. Unfortunately, I do believe that hiring a nurse maid to tend to Evan would be a particularly self defeating move on my part, so it will just have to remain a sitting room for the time being.”

Harry stood and picked up Evan, looked Lucius in the eyes and tried to come up with something to say. Half of him wanted to announce that, no matter the circumstances, no child of his would be raised by some nurse maid; the other half had the insane notion of saying ‘have a nice day at work.’ Deciding that nothing he said was likely to come out the way he wanted, he simply nodded and walked out, breathing a deep sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. He was fairly sure he was losing his mind and it hadn’t even been forty-eight hours.

 

____________________

 

That evening found Lucius sitting in his office, lip giving an uncharacteristic twitch every so often as he went through the last of his paperwork. After nearly ten hours in the office he was finally catching up and, with any luck, he would be able to get back to the manor before nine.

A few of the death eaters, probably newer recruits, had decided that The-Boy-Who-Lived’s disappearance was a cause for celebration, and what better way to celebrate than making a general mess of things. The halls of the ministry, even in these late hours, were filled with people from every department, working on various aspects of muggle relations. It was all rather ironic to Lucius. He was frustrated and angry at the amount of paperwork he was currently signing and filling out because it was keeping him away from he object of his obsession, while, in turn, that object was the cause of all the Ministry’s mayhem.

He was setting the large stack of finished paperwork to the side for filing when a deliberate throat clearing caught his attention. No knock, no ‘hello,’ just a rather annoyed little noise that made Lucius eye twitch again. There were very few people with bullocks enough to make that noise in that tone, and none of them had any reason to be visiting him at work after hours.

Turning toward the door, the glare on his face froze. Of all the possible people he could have to deal with at the end of this particular day, why did have to be Snape? Lucius took a deep breath and forced a cordial smile to spread tensely across his face, “Good evening, Severus.”

“Good evening, indeed.”

The two had not gotten along since the second rise of the Dark Lord, and their tenuous ‘friendship’ had turned into utter disdain after Potter was returned to Hogwarts a little worse for the ware. Apparently Severus had been given quite a bit to do with the recovery process and he had never really forgiven Lucius for the amount of time Dumbledore had forced him to spend with the traumatized teen.

Not that Lucius could blame him entirely, he was not fond of children, let alone ones that break into bouts of unexplained tears, start screaming for no apparent reason, and went from seemingly comatose to completely hysterical in a matter of seconds. He probably would have been slightly perturbed as well, but he doubted he would have held the grudge for this long.

Then again, Severus was known for his grudges.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I have pressing matters to attend.”

Severus held a hand out across the door before Lucius had even stood up, his other arm still crossed over his chest, “Where is he?”

Bugger. If Severus knew, then the Dark Lord knew. In fact, given the Potion Master’s contempt for Lucius, he was probably here on their lord’s orders.

The silence agitated Severus, who’s glare hardened, “Lucius, where is your son?”

Lucius held in the relieved sigh. While he had no qualms about turning Evan over the moment he was ordered to, he was not looking forward to the sniveling, disobedient mess Harry would become afterward. Better to put it off as long as he could manage.

Now, how to answer that question without outright lying? Severus was, unfortunately, very good at telling when he was being lied to; it was one of the many things that made him so perfectly suited as the Slytherin Head of House.

“I really have no idea, Severus.” Not a lie, he had not asked the elves the location of his son’s body. “I haven’t seen him in days, but he did seem rather distressed when he left. I can’t imagine why.”

Severus scowled down at him, as Lucius had not bothered to stand yet. The last had been an obvious lie, Lucius knew very well why Draco had been so upset upon his ‘departure,’ but he had also found it impossible to resist that last little barb; just something to let Severus know he wasn’t telling him everything.

There was a period of stretched silence before Lucius’ cordial smile turned itself into the trademark Malfoy smirk, “Perhaps he’s wherever your little Potters are.”

Severus went back to glaring, a little spark of actual anger igniting behind his eyes, “Speaking of which, I spoke with our Lord earlier this evening and he expressed quite a bit of… unease at not knowing their whereabouts. You wouldn’t happen to have gleamed any possible leads today? I know Fudge is doing his utmost to locate his savior.”

“Of course, but no, I spoke with the Minister this afternoon and there are no leads. Should I assume that Dumbledore has had little luck, as well?”

The glare intensified, “Assume no such thing, he hardly trusts me enough to give me such vital information. I have, however, heard through other sources that there was an intruder in that wing of the school. Whoever it was, was successful in disarming every one of the traps and wards the dear” twitch, “Professor Potter put around his room, however, there were a few harmless charms he may have forgotten. Indicator charms for instance.”

There was no denying the suspicion in Severus’ voice, or the way he emphasized the word ‘he.’ It was a good thing the Potions Master was so thorough. Until he had absolute proof he was unlikely to take what he knew to anyone, the Dark Lord or otherwise.

Then again, if those rumors were true he had something far more terrifying than the Dark Lord Voldemort to fear--Albus Dumbledore.

 

____________________

 

Dumbledore sat pensively behind his desk, hands folded in his lap, sucking on a lemon drop as he listened to a practically livid Severus Snape relay the events of that evening; the veins in his too thin neck were straining against his overly pale skin and he had been repeatedly chastised for slamming his hand onto the desk with more than necessary force.

“He knows where they are. If he had nothing to hide he would not have tried to get me out of that office so quickly. Albus, are you even listening?”

Dumbledore nodded leisurely, “Of course, Severus, please continue.”

“Continue? I tell you that Potter and Evan are stowed away in Malfoy Manor and all you can tell me to do is continue? “What would you have me do, Severus?”

Snape stopped short of hitting the desk once again, “They need to be gotten out of there. Malfoy could have them locked in the dungeons, he could starve them, he could hurt Evan, god only knows what he’s doing with Potter. He could hand them over to the Dark Lord while you just sit on your…”

“Severus!”

Snape’s mouth snapped shut. He hadn’t realized he was shouting, but he was having a great deal of trouble controlling his anger when visions of Evan and, Merlin help him, Potter in various devastating states kept flashing through the back of his mind. “I apologize, Professor.”

Dumbledore smiled sadly, no trace of twinkle in his blue eyes, “I understand your concern, but I must take other things into account. If Voldemort knew the whereabouts of the Potters he would have already acquired them and, had that been the case, you would be the first to know. I do believe you when you say that Lucius has them, but I can not act rashly.”

“Whatever reason he has for keeping them, it has nothing to do with Voldemort, of that I am sure. However, should he fear imminent capture, Voldemort is the first place he will go and I do fear that he will take them with him.”

Severus sighed deeply. Damn the old fool for being so insightful. Why couldn’t he just storm the manor like anyone else would have done?

‘Because he, unlike so many others, is thinking of their safety.’

He sat down abruptly, folding his arms over his chest, “What do you intend to do?”

“Whatever is necessary, Severus. I will watch the manor and Lucius Malfoy until I have come up with a suitable means of rescue. Until then, I do believe you have had a rather long day and perhaps it would be wise to turn in for the evening.”

Nodding to the headmaster, Snape left the office hurriedly, his mind whirling in thought. While he could safely say that he had no intentions disobeying the headmaster, he also had no intentions of standing idly by while Lucius did Merlin knew what to the last of the Potters.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

The sitting room was a complete and utter mess. The book bag that Harry had brought with him was open and the contents had been poured onto the floor. There was parchment and no-spill quills, markers, wizarding crayons, coloring books, regular books, a very ratty looking stuffed dragon, and six soldiers dutifully marching around the lot as though guarding it. Evan lay on his stomach in front of the mess, pointedly ignoring Lucius’ presence as he colored.

The house elves had informed him upon arrival that the two were still in the sitting room, but that Harry had eaten little of either lunch or dinner, instead moving the contents around the plate for a while before having it sent back. Lucius had intended to come in and demand to know whether he was intentionally starving himself, when he’d been stopped by the minefield of toys on the floor.

Actually, now that he got to look, it was a very organized minefield. The crayons, all 86 of them, had been laid out by color in four rows directly in front of Evan, who was currently putting one back in its exact place and trying to pick another from the reds. Everything was laid out like that now that he looked. The markers were in two rows, as there were fewer, the still rolled parchment was fanned out with exactly the same amount of space between each, even the soldiers appeared to be doing a well practiced drill, all with extremely bored looks on their tin faces.

Evan sighed as he took his small hand away from the red and instead picked up a pale orange color and began meticulously filling something in with tiny strokes. While Lucius may not have had much experience with children, he was fairly certain that this was unusual.

Finally seeming to give in to something, the child looked up, an annoyed furrow across the brow, “What are you doing here?”

What was he...? Lucius gripped his cane firmly, forbidding himself to walk over and slap the insolent child across the face. Harry would most likely have a very adverse reaction if he did that. “You should mind your manners or people might begin to think your father never taught you any.”

Evan looked back down at his book, making one precise mark and surveying his work. “My father taught me to be polite, just not to you.”

A pale haze seemed to momentarily flitter across Lucius eyes before he could force himself to calm down. He could not, however, keep his voice from rising slightly in his anger, “Common sense...”

“Shhhhh!!!!” Evan put his hand up, his eyes wide in something that was not quite fear. No, it looked more like concern, the way he turned around to look at the couch, not taking his finger away from his mouth.

Up until then, Lucius had not noticed Harry, who appeared to be in a very deep sleep, curled into as small a ball as the little couch would allow. His face had tensed up momentarily, but quickly relaxed again as he shifted slightly, turning onto his back and flinging an arm over the edge of the sofa.

Lucius had not watched Harry sleep before; it had never occurred to him to watch anyone sleep. It was entrancing. Harry looked so vulnerable like that, so untroubled; as though the last two days had not even happened. It was going to be very satisfying to see his face when he woke up.

Evan sighed in relief and looked back at Lucius crossly, “You have to be quiet; he’s very sleepy.”

It was disconcerting to be more or less told to ‘shut up’ by a five-year-old child who should have, by nature, been noisy himself. But he got the feeling that nothing about this child was normal. Save the brilliant vocal talent he’d displayed the night before, Evan had been very quiet and well behaved, he ate meticulously, and even played in an orderly manner.

Lucius carefully stepped over the tin soldiers who began frantically poking at his feet in an attempt to keep their parameter clear of intruders. He tipped one over with the toe of his boot and watched, slightly amused as the others scrambled to help up their fallen comrade.

“That wasn’t very nice.” He turned abruptly to the boy, whose face was sour as he got up onto his hands and knees and reached over to assist the toys. “You shouldn’t be mean to something just because you’re bigger than it.”

The little men stared coldly up at him for a moment, clearly annoyed, before continuing about their march. Lucius knelt down, looked at the coloring book Evan was once again hovering over. It was a picture of a unicorn, its white coat shining in shades of opal blue and pink. On the floor next to it was a picture of a real unicorn, which Evan seemed to be using as reference.

Now that he thought about it, Draco had been interested in art at one point, but a few stern lectures had quickly taken it out, or at least suppressed it long enough for more masculine traits to take hold. Lucius turned his attention to the other books, all of them featuring various animals; one was dedicated entirely to dragons. He picked it up and opened the front cover, on the inside was a passage in the neat script he knew to be his son’s. ‘Remember, what they don’t know can’t hurt you-Big Brother Draco.’

Lucius chuckled to himself and turned a few pages. Each finished picture was accompanied by a photo or magazine clipping of a dragon, and the finished products were surprisingly good; the crayon never once went outside the line.

Evan picked up a miniature wand from the floor and tapped the one Lucius had stopped at. The green and blue beast began moving around its page, throwing its head back and opening its mouth as though to roar. “The magic’s starting to wear off, so it will only last a minute or so.”

As it slowed down and stopped moving, Lucius closed it. “You are very good for your age.”

Evan snorted, “I’m very good for most ages.”

Lucius was in the process of opening his mouth to comment on exactly how much that sounded like something Draco would have said, when a drawn out “Noooo.” sounded to his left. At first, he thought Harry had woken up, but when he looked over the green eyes were tightly closed. The smaller man was tensed all over, and his hands were gripping the sofa desperately.

A nightmare, then, and something fairly horrible from the heart wrenching cry that quickly followed. Lucius reached out, intending to shake him awake, but Evan grabbed his arm, “No, you can’t.”

Although he was tempted to show the child exactly what he could and could not do, he stood up instead, and walked over to lean against the wall. Evan quickly picked up the little wand and tapped his picture, taking only a moment to watch the unicorn rear back on the page before scrambling over on his knees to the sofa.

Harry let out a soft pained cry that sounded suspiciously like ‘Draco.’ Evan stopped for a moment, a concerned look on his face, but reached out and shook his father. “Father, wake up! Father, I finished it!

The small wizards eyes shot open and he stopped breathing for a moment, staring at the ceiling as though shocked. Evan put on a concerned frown, “Father?”

Harry jerked his head over and the pain and fear seemed to melt from his face, his lips opening in a relieved smile, “What’s wrong, Evan?” His eyes did a quick scan of the room and fell on Lucius. They glinted dangerously as he focused back on his son, “Are you okay?”

Evan nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah. I finished!” He held the picture out, the unicorn was barely moving, making muted attempts to stomp the ground majestically. “It’s a unicorn.”

“Yes, it is.” Harry took it from Evan and smiled, running his hand over the page, “You’ll need to do more in the background, you left the trees blank. Remember what Draco told you, it’s never finished until you’ve covered the whole page.”

Evan’s proud smile didn’t waver. He nodded, lying himself back on the floor and began picking out a color from a collection of pale greens. Harry sat up stiffly, stretching his arms over his head, glaring at Lucius from the corner of his eye. “You look like crap; late night at the office?”

“Your disappearance has caused quite a stir in the ministry, as I’m sure you know.”

“Actually, I don’t.” Harry turned away abruptly and stood up, “Evan, put your things away, it’s time to get ready for bed.”

Lucius stepped forward, “That is what the house elves are for, love.”

Harry didn’t look over, or acknowledge the comment. Instead, he knelt down and began helping. Evan was sending furtive looks to Lucius as he poured handfuls of crayons into a leather pouch.

“Harry.”

Still nothing. The soldiers stopped waiting to be put in the bag and started trying to find a way in by themselves, occasionally looking nervously behind them. Strange.

“If you do not answer, now, you won’t see your son for a week.”

Evan’s eyes got wide and he looked as though he wanted to protest, but instead doubled his efforts, shoving the crayons in the bag and scooping the last soldiers in as well before grabbing for the quills. Harry still refused to say anything.

“I do not appreciate being ignored, Harry.”

“And I do not appreciate being threatened!”

The glass vase sitting on the table beside the sofa broke and Evan stopped moving, in mid reach for his coloring books. Lucius stopped moving as well, his glare plastered to his face. The entire room was radiating with wild energy, the aura around Harry had become visible, shining in an opaque red.

“Hum Evan.”

This time there was no mistaking the compliance, it was obvious he not only couldn’t hear, but didn’t want to. His little hands were white with tension as they gripped his head around his ears. Harry didn’t stand up he simply locked eyes with Lucius from where he sat on his knees.

“This little... scenario you’ve managed to create, Lucius, this whole bloody situation has been the subject of my worst bloody nightmares for five years. This... you are the reason I woke up in the corner of hospital wing on more than one occasion with absolutely no memory of how I got there. And I am not taking it well!”

Harry’s eyes had started glowing, his breathing was shallow. “The only reason I have not lost my bloody mind is my son. He needs me here, all of me, but I am hanging on by a thread. I get that you can take him away. I get that I have no wand, that I am impotent to stop you from doing anything to me or him that you want, but so help me Merlin, if you threaten me with him one more time I will find a way to make you pay.

Lucius refused to let his legs take him back those few steps to the wall. It was very tempting to get as far away as possible from the seriously pissed off Potter, but it was also not a wise move if he planned to continue to stay in control. The antique crystal ball on the built in bookcase shattered and several books fell. Harry seemed to be startled out of his anger by the sudden noise. He looked at Evan, still hunched over, hands white over his ears and reached over, pulling the five year old into his lap.

Evan did not look the least bit unnerved by his father’s outburst. The panic he had shown before began wilted into lose tension as the energy in the room dissipated and he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. Harry ran his fingers into Evan’s hair and rocked almost imperceptible.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” He looked back at Lucius, his green eyes tired and worn, as though he had not just woken from a nap, “Lucius, I am begging you. I will do what you say; you have my word, but do not make me spend more time away from my son than is necessary. I need him.”

Evan had slowly begun to relax, curling further into Harry’s embrace. While the last of the wild magic was busy evaporating into the atmosphere, Lucius watched the two in detached interest. He had never been so close to another living person as they were. He may have had feelings for his wife, but they expended only as far as was needed for the two of them to live together. Even the relationship between his immediate family when he was growing up had been strained and distant.

Sighing deeply, Lucius nodded to Harry purposefully, “You may get him ready for bed and tucked in. I will wait for you here.”

Without hesitation Harry stood up, grunting very slightly under the strain of picking Evan up with him, and headed through the door into the bathroom. It took nearly thirty minutes for him to reemerge. The bags under his eyes were darker and the energy he had expended during his outburst had left him pale.

Lucius stood and held out his hand, ignoring the few moments Harry waited before taking it. There was something unsatisfyingly docile and complacent about his actions, as though he were complying because he was forced. Although, Lucius knew this was very much the case, there was still the part of him that wanted Harry to want him-that wanted Harry to need him the way he appeared to need his son.

The tension is Harry’s body mounted the closer they came to the bedroom and, much to Lucius disappointment, by the time they reached the heavy wooden doors he could literally feel it in the air. Despite his own carnal urges it wouldn’t do to fuel his captive’s emotions so soon after an outburst.

Sighing inwardly, Lucius waved for Harry to go into the room before him. Of course, there was always tomorrow.

 

____________________

 

Lucius woke feeling distinctly grateful that it was a Saturday. Harry had been restless the vast majority of the night and only settled into a comfortable sleep a few hours ago, most likely from sheer exhaustion.

Watching the young man’s face as he slept, Lucius contemplated the past few days. The strain was very clear on Harry’s face, especially around the eyes. The dark eyebrows were knitted together even while the rest of him seemed too relaxed; there were dark circles under his eyes, and little crinkles at the corners.

There really was no way around it, if Harry did not get more rest soon he would probably either drive himself into an early grave or become seriously ill. The real problem would be in convincing him to stay in bed rather than run to his son the moment he opened his eyes.

As if to on cue, the green eyes blinked open, staring forward dully before focusing on Lucius. The tension made an immediate return and Harry began to push himself into a sitting position, clutching the blankets around his waste. Lucius had been very insistent the evening before that he was not to sleep in his robes.

Lifting up onto one elbow, Lucius raised an eyebrow as he watched Harry continue to pull blankets around him. “Morning, love.”

Harry stopped moving and stared back, “...morning.”

Lucius reached up, ignoring the flinch as he ran a hand from Harry’s temple down his cheek and let it rest there. “You hardly slept last night, were you having nightmares?”

“That’s none of your...” he stopped abruptly. “Yes, Lucius, I have them quite often. Evan usually wakes me up, though. It helps.”

The hand moved across the jaw and a thumb traced Harry’s lower lip, “Would it help if I were to wake you?”

The smaller wizard finally pulled back with a shudder and pressed himself against the headboard. “No.”

“Why not?”

Harry glared at Lucius before dropping his gaze onto the finely made blanket. “I’d rather not.”

“I’d rather you did.”

“The nightmares tend to be about the people I’ve lost or... or you. Evan reminds me that there’s a reason things have happened the way they have and that there is something for me to live for. That it’s not all bad.”

Lucius smirked as he stretched, watching every muscle in Harry’s body bristling like a cat. How amusing. “You should relax.” One dark eyebrow raised in what was probably an amused expression.

Getting onto his knees, Lucius sat in front of his captive and lowered his mouth onto the tightly closed lips. The early morning taste was slightly repulsive, but he was more than adequately rewarded.

Despite his tension, Harry was forcing himself to relax, and he found that the more he relaxed the more pleasant the kiss became. Not that he wanted to think ‘Lucius Malfoy’ and ‘pleasant’ in the same sentence, but it was very hard to deny when little shivers went up his spine every time their tongues touched.

He couldn’t stop himself from pressing back, ever so slightly, and to his own surprise the hand that clamped firmly onto the back of his head, playing with his hair, didn’t make him panic. Harry wondered if perhaps it had something to do with how little sleep he’d been getting, because every touch seemed to ignite something he did not want it to.

He wanted to be repulsed; he wanted to feel the tightness of panic in his chest; he wanted anything but this sudden urge to see exactly how good the kiss would fell if he were fight back with his own tongue and lips.

Lucius pulled back slowly, hot breath against Harry’s fainted lips. “You should get some more sleep, love, you’ll make yourself ill.”

Harry opened his eyes, not having realized he’d closed them. “But Evan, I want...”

Pressing his mouth back against Harry’s, Lucius began kissing him again. This time he couldn’t help his tongue from lifting to meet the intruder, but he pulled it back just as quickly. Lucius didn’t seem to mind, he simply continued about the business of making every nerve in Harry’s spine shiver with unwanted delight.

The kiss deepened for a moment before softened into nothing and it was all Harry could do to keep from following the other man’s mouth as it retreated. He’d closed his eyes again, but Lucius hadn’t gone far, his mouth wrested so tantalizingly close enough that Harry could feel him smiling.

“You will see your son, Harry, after you’ve gotten a few hours of sleep.”

“I...” Harry forced himself to pull further away, pressing his head against the headboard. “I don’t think I can, not after I’ve just woken.”

Lucius’ smirk widened, “Well then, love, we’ll have to see what we can do about helping to tire you out.”

With no further warning than that, Lucius wrapped his hands under Harry’s knees and yanked so that the smaller man was on his back, sheets pulled away, the flats of his feet pressed onto the bed on either side of blonde wizard’s hips.

Harry expected Lucius to start kissing him again, and tried to tell himself that it wasn’t a good kind of expectation that was currently making his skin crawl… well, tingle, really, but if he was going to ignore it, he might as well do a proper job of it. What he did not expect were the teeth that clamped lightly onto his right nipple, almost, but not quite, painfully.

He also did not expect the waves of pleasure this sent to his groin, or the moaning sound that forced its way out of his throat when Lucius did it again, slightly harder. Didn’t expect it, didn’t want it, but there were parts of him that were starting to scream ‘more’; parts that were getting hard as Lucius started to move down his chest, nipping and licking at his tan skin, gripping his shifting hips with manicured fingers.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to block out the image of what Lucius Malfoy looked like between his legs, but a particularly sharp bite to the inside of his thighs made him open them wide. There was no mistaking what Lucius was about to do, but Harry couldn’t figure out why in the name of Merlin he would be doing it. As the tip of the tongue brushing against his erection, he very suddenly didn’t care why. He very suddenly didn’t care about much of anything except reaching that explosive pleasure he’d experienced the other day.

He just about forgot his own name when lips and teeth began to trace their way delicately up his shaft, it was more sensation than Harry could process and at the same time not nearly enough. As they made another pass over the head of his cock, Harry’s hands involuntarily started to reach out and grab at the silky blonde hair, to force the body between his legs to do something more, anything more.

Anticipating the reaction, Lucius reached out at nearly the same time to grab the small wrists, and looked up into the glazed over face. “Grab the headboard, love.”

After a few moments the words started to form a sentence in Harry’s mind, one with a clear meaning as apposed to the mindless gibberish coming from a mouth he’d rather have elsewhere. He obeyed, reaching over his head and grabbing onto the metal framework design. He’d never really looked at it before. It looked like a Celtic knot. Did it have significance, or was it just a pretty design? Maybe it was an heirloom someone else had thought was pretty, or..

His mind shut down again as the warm mouth took him in, just the head, and sucked lightly. Harry moaned despite himself, unable to control the reflex of wanting more, needing more. His hands were gripping the headboard so tightly that his nails cut into the base of his palms. It was entirely unlike anything he had ever experienced, unlike anything he had even dreamed about

Lucius tongue moved around the head and then down the shaft as he took the cock half in his mouth and pulled back up. Harry heard himself moan again, but this time he was sure he’d heard a word in there. Lucius was repeating the action, one of his hands had let go of Harry’s hip and was holding the base of his cock, squeezing and tugging gently; too gently.

This time there was no mistaking the half cry, half moan of “more,” that came from the back of Harry’s throat. It sounded deep and guttural, nothing like himself; he couldn’t manage to be ashamed right at the moment, though, not with the soft vibrations of Lucius’ mouth as he chuckled.

The mouth disappeared altogether and vaguely Harry heard himself whimper. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he was going to be horrified over this whole situation sometime very soon. Lucius slid up his body until their groins ground against each other.

Harry found that, despite his best efforts, when Lucius began kissing him he kissed back, pushing his tongue into the more experienced mouth, moving his lips hard and clumsy against the others. It tasted wrong, different, but his brain refused to analyze it. One of Lucius’ hands was moving down Harry’s body, stroking his side and thighs, moving their hips together just enough to keep Harry from fully comprehending exactly what it was he was doing and who he was doing it with.

From some great distance, Harry was aware that the other hand had been rummaging through the drawer of the bedside table and had apparently found what it was looking for, as Lucius had pulled away and recommenced working his mouth over his incoherent partner’s erection once again.

Harry nearly bit his lip clean through as Lucius began moving on him again, sucking, licking. He didn’t think it was possible to feel so much pleasure. Pain, yes, he’d felt quite a bit of pain, but pleasure was an entirely new realm for him and if it got any better he thought he might stop breathing altogether.

His body jolted as a slick finger probed between his arse cheeks. He gave a surprised yelp and would have tried to pull away if Lucius hadn’t taken him into his throat at that moment. Harry couldn’t decide which was more disturbing, that the finger now pressing inside of him didn’t hurt, that it felt strange, but incredible, or that his heart hadn’t even skipped a goddamned beat. The finger moved slowly, slick and unyielding, stopping only when it was up to the knuckle.

It didn’t take long for Harry to realize that just having it there wasn’t enough, he was aching in an entirely new way and he wanted it to move. Not leave, he didn’t think he could keep himself from outright begging if Lucius removed the finger entirely, but moving had potential.

He didn’t have to wait long. As the blonde head dipped down again and the confines of a throat engulfed the head of Harry’s cock, the digit moved, pulling out and pushing back in with the slightest of motion. The ache was building exponentially and Harry let go of the headboard in favor of clutching the sheets next to his hips so that he could push down on it, force it to do more.

The orgasm didn’t even build, or if it did, Harry had been too busy just feeling to notice it. A wave of pleasure crashed over him, starting in his balls and spreading through his body, making his back arch and his head swim. When it receded he was keenly aware of the body now lying next to him.

Lucius reached a hand out and cupped Harry’s chin, holding the head still as he ravished the limp mouth one more time. “You should sleep.”

At that moment Harry couldn’t think of anything better to do.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

“I’m bored.”

…

“I’m bored.”

Lucius closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking up. Evan was standing in front of the large mahogany desk, glaring across a though his second father were at fault for his boredom.

“Are you even listening to me? I’m bored.”

“Go color.”

“I’ve done that, I’m bored with it.”

“Play with your soldiers.”

Evan scrunched up his nose and put his arms on the desk, supporting his chin, which barely reached the top. “They’re tired from guarding my bag all night.”

Lucius raised a blonde eyebrow, “Why ever would they be guarding your bag?”

“Because I don’t trust you.” He put his arms down and began humming loudly.

“Stop that.”

Evan smiled wickedly, but stopped, walking around the desk. “What are you doing?”

“Working, something that I’m sure you will learn about someday, now go play.”

The boy pouted, but didn’t stop trying to see over Lucius’s arm. “I don’t have anyone to play with.”

“Go find a house elf.”

“They’re too busy, they have to clean the house. I’m bored, so you have to play with me.”

Of all the insufferable... Lucius winced slightly, but covered it with a scowl. He was beginning to think like Snape, and after only three days with only one child; no wonder the man was foul tempered ninety percent of the time. “I do not have to play with you. Go do what you normally do when your father is busy.”

Evan smiled brightly, “It’s Saturday, and on Saturdays I go to see Grandpa Sirius and Grandma Moony.”

Grandma... “Grandma Moony?”

The pale grey eyes sparkled and the corners tipped in amusement. “It’s what I call Remus, ‘cause Uncle Severus says that they’re mates, and they live together, so if Sirius is going to be my Grandpa, then Remus has to be my Grandma.”

“Moony?”

“That’s what Sirius calls Remus when they think I’m not listening. It’s usually followed by a lot of noises, like,” he smacked his lips against the back of his hand and grinned, “they don’t think I’m listening when they do that, either.”

“I’m sure.”

“And sometimes Sirius grabs Moony’s leg under the table during lunch, and there was one time I spent the night and they were in the living room and I could hear them saying all sort of things, like ‘oh baby’ and ‘right there’ and...”

Lucius stood up abruptly, trying to ignore the smug look on the child’s face. “Does your father know?”

Evan tilted his head to the side, “You know, and you’re my father, too, aren’t you?”

“That is entirely irrelevant.”

Evan shrugged and began humming again.

Oh, bloody hell, he was letting himself get flustered again and that was not the way to handle the situation. Not that he wanted to handle the situation at all. Sitting back down at the desk he tried to concentrate as the boy walked aimlessly around his office, poking at various protected items and humming some incessant tune that repeated itself every thirty seconds.

When Lucius found that he had been reading the same two lines for the past ten minutes, he decided that he’d had enough. He pushed away from the desk with a heavy sigh and looked back at Evan, planning on telling him to do something quiet. He stopped in mid breath, however, when he saw the child had managed to get his hands on a rare dark artifact that could have easily been mistaken for a muggle voodoo doll.

The protective magic placed on it allowed only Malfoys to touch it, which had not been a problem ten years ago when Lucius bought it because Draco would never have touched anything in his office-not even the desk. Evan, however, appeared to have no such reservations.

Standing up from the desk he grabbed the artifact from the boy's hands and set it carefully on the desk before picking up the boy under his arms and carrying him to the door, placing him firmly on the other side.

“Go play with something in your room.”

With a smile that told Lucius he was somehow going to regret this later, Evan turned around and walked back towards his room, still humming.

 

____________________

 

Harry had been having a wonderful dream, if a little disturbing. In fact, now that he was fully awake it was far more disturbing than it had seemed at first. He had dreamed that Draco had been doing to him what Lucius had a few hours ago.

Now, of course, he had a problem. He was rock hard under the sheets and he wasn’t really sure how to handle it. The part of him that had been repressed for so long, his libido, wanted him to touch it; the other part was revolted by the idea. Stupid subconscious was a bloody nuisance, he’d be much better off without it, really.

He pulling the covers over his head, but pushed them off again quickly, alarmed at the smell of sex lingering on his skin, and even more alarmed at the way it made his cock throb. He needed a shower, he needed one now.

Harry scrambled out of the bed and ran into the bathroom, stumbling slightly as the blood rushed to his head. He hadn’t eaten much in the past few days, if he wasn’t careful he wouldn’t be able to get out of bed at all. He turned on the water and stood under it. After a few moments he turned the heat up and gritted his teeth as his skin reddened.

Thank god he didn’t get off on pain. His cock was returning to its limp position between his legs. Much better. Of course, now there was a dull ache in his balls that he couldn’t even begin to understand, but it was better than a raging hard on.

Picking up the soap, he rubbed it over his skin, softly at first, then harder. Ten minutes later he felt as though he had maybe gotten all of Malfoy’s saliva off his chest and abdomen. A shiver went through his muscles and he picked the soap back up. Okay, maybe not. After another half hour using soap and nails and he felt much better. The healing soap had the added bonus of closing any cuts better they bleed too much, but it couldn’t get rid of the irritated pink of his skin.

He’d live with it.

The house elves must have somehow known that he’d gotten up; clean robes were laid out over the now made bed. He picked them up and ran his hands over the material. They were a deep maroon with black trim with the same silver clasp as before. Nice, but again not something he would normally wear. Besides, he’d always felt awkward wearing Griffindor-red off the Quidditch pitch.

As Harry pulled on the pants, he was forced to admit that while captivity was hell, at least the clothes were nice. He was sure the pants weren’t cotton (or they could have been, he’d never really paid attention to fabrics before), but whatever it was made him tingle every time he so much as shifted; and the shirt had to be silk, which wasn’t helping that morning as he was suddenly very aware of his nipples.

He was in the process of buttoning his robes and wondering if Evan would be wearing the same color again, when an ear-piercing cry made its way faintly through the door. If he hadn’t been so well tuned to that particular voice and pitch, he probably wouldn’t have noticed it at all. As it was, Evan crying was something he could recognize out of a sea of voices, let the eerily silent Malfoy Manor.

Forgetting his robes, Harry ran through the door and towards the direction the horrible sobs were coming from. After five minutes, in which he changed directions many times, Harry finally came out of the winding hallways into a large circular room that had the look of an entrance hall.

It probably was the entrance hall, but Harry wasn’t concerned with that. What he was concerned with was his five year old son sitting in the middle of the room crying hysterically while a very put-out Lucius stood over him, arms crossed over his broad chest.

Harry hurried over and wrapped his arms around Evan’s shoulders, “Shh, it's okay, sweetie, I’m here.”

Lucius backed off, leaning against the curved wall as Harry rocked Evan, who had laid his head down in his father’s lap. Harry wasn’t entirely sure how much time passed before the sobs finally quieted down enough for him to ask his son what happened.

“I was flying down the hall and I fell down the stairs and Mr. Malfoy was yelling at me and telling me to be quiet or he wouldn’t wake you for dinner and...”

The boy broke down crying again and Harry looked up at Lucius venomously. It was one thing to threaten him; it was another to do the same to his son. Unfortunately, it was an issue better dealt with in private. “It’s alright, Evan, I’m awake now.”

While he waited for Evan to calm down again, he looked at the broken toy lying a few feet away. A toy broom; in fact, it looked very much like the one Draco had been planning to buy Evan for his birthday, regardless of what Harry said. Not that Harry expected Draco or Evan to listen to him where brooms were concerned.

“Evan?” The boy hiccupped once and looked up at his father expectantly, “You were flying a toy broom?” Evan nodded dejectedly. “You know I told you not to, especially indoors, it’s dangerous. Why did you disobey me?” Silly question, really, he knew very well why Evan had ridden it, he’d been bored and it wasn’t like he would be seriously punished or any...

“Mr. Malfoy said I could.”

Lucius stood up straight, “I said no such thing.”

“You said to play with something in my room and that was in my room.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face the blonde wizard who suddenly looked very uncomfortable, “Where were you?”

Lucius couldn’t help but feel another explosion could be imminent if Harry had managed to rest up enough. “I was in my study working.”

“Why weren’t you watching him?”

“That is the job for the house elves, not me.”

“Where were the house elves?”

Evan sniffed and looked at the ground, “They were cleaning, father.”

Harry smoothed out Evan’s hair, which had managed to get the slightest bit out of place when he fell. “It’s okay, sweetie, you aren’t in trouble.” Evan nodded and continued sniffing, but looked much calmer and less likely to cry. Harry, however, didn’t, had he not drained himself dry just last night there were several artifacts he was sure were Malfoy family heirlooms that would be so much broken glass.

Since he didn’t have the either the physical strength, or the magical, he turned his anger to Lucius instead. “Why weren’t you watching him?”

With an undignified sigh, Lucius waved a hand dismissively in the air. “He’s a child, love, children get hurt. He would have done the same whether had I been trailing along behind him or not.”

“Yes, Lucius, children get hurt, and yes, he probably would have somehow managed to fall, but not down the bloody stairs! This is your home; I assume you know where the stairs are.”

Lucius bristled, but forced himself not to step up to the insult. He had made a small breakthrough that morning, Harry had responded to his advances, however unwillingly, and throwing curses would only set him back. “He is five-years-old; he should be able to watch after himself.”

For a moment it looked as though Harry might just explode regardless of his exhaustion, but he closed his eyes and took a few deep breathes. Through the years his temper had become no easier to control and his wild magic more volatile. It had landed him on bed rest for days at a time on more than one occasion and he couldn’t risk that while in captivity.

“I know that you have little experience with children, Lucius, but five years old is far too young to be left alone.”

Evan opened his mouth to protest, but closed it without saying anything. Lucius scowled, “Draco was left alone at five and he never fell down a set of stairs.”

Harry sat up straighter, “And exactly how would you know if your son was left by himself, let alone whether he fell down stairs?”

Before Lucius could say anything, Harry stood up to his full height. While unimpressive in itself, there was something intimidating about the gesture none the less. “I will have you know that at six he nearly drowned in one of your grandiose bathing tubs.”

“I would have been informed.”

“You were.”

Come to think of it... Lucius nodded slightly to himself. He had been out of town and while having a quite dinner with Narcissa she had informed him that Draco had nearly drowned in the bathroom of the master suite, that he had gotten away from the house elf and decided to teach himself how to swim. Of course, he hadn’t really taken notice of it, then; his heir was alive, no harm done, but he had told Narcissa to watch him more closely.

Interesting, he had completely forgotten about that. There was a slight twinge in his gut as he wondered what else he might have forgotten about his eldest son’s childhood, but it hardly mattered. Draco was dead and Evan, while biologically his, was little more than a tool to be used against Harry.

With a half hearted shrug, Lucius pushed off he wall. “Dinner will be in twenty minutes. If you need anything the house elves will retrieve it for you.”

Lucius watched as Harry picked Evan up of the floor. The little boy wrapped his legs and arms around his father, burying is head in Harry’ shoulder. The smaller wizard looked Lucius in the eyes, a powerful, unspoken threat passing between them. Evan was no to be left alone, not if Lucius wanted continue his families lineage.

As Harry turned away and began walking towards the hall he had come out of, Evan looked up at Lucius. There were no traces of tears in his eyes, and a tiny, smug grin played one his lips for a moment before he stuck out his tongue.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

Lucius stood by the bay windows in the dining hall, staring aimlessly into the evening. In truth, he couldn’t have cared less about the stars, but it was far more interesting to watch them twinkle than to watch the food in the table getting cold.

He had not expected Harry to be in a good mood, he had, however, expected him to show. It was ten minutes past the hour, which put Harry at fifteen minutes late. Lucius was on the verge of either sending another house elf or simply going up himself to see what was taking so bloody long when the doors opened and the source of his aggravation came in, carrying the little bundle of a manipulative child in his arms.

If it wasn’t for the simple fact that Harry’s sanity rested on Evan’s well being Lucius would have beaten the child at least twice in the past few days. At the same time he couldn’t help feeling a strange draw to the boy.

It was nothing like anything he had felt for Draco; that weakling child may have been his son by blood, but he had taken after his mother in everything, his personality, his taste in clothing. Evan, on the other hand, took after Lucius himself more than Harry. Oh, the Gryffindor goodness was there as well, it had shown itself in the way the boy woke his father up, pretending it wasn’t the nightmares when it quite obviously was. The little act probably hadn’t fooled Harry, but the act itself was kind and beyond anything Lucius would have been capable of that age; probably not even now.

He watched them sit down. Evan’s cloak was not on, leaving him in shorts and a lightweight tunic style shirt. His ankle was wrapped in a thin bandage; both his knees were scraped raw and covered in thick healing salve. Harry set the boy down in on of the three set places at the table and looked up long enough to glare at Lucius.

“It isn’t that bad; he scraped up his knees and elbows, small bump on the head, and a slightly sprained ankle.”

Lucius raised an interested eyebrow, “Wild magic?”

Harry nodded, “It wouldn’t be the first time.” A half smile spread on Harry’s face as he served food onto Evan’s plate. “Sirius bought him the wizarding version of ‘slip-and-slide’ last year for his birthday and he decided to try it out on a table in the great hall when Winky wasn’t looking. He came out of it with two bruises, but not even a single cut.”

Evan pouted, looking at his father incredulously, “I didn’t fall that far.”

“Oh, no, of course not.” Harry ruffled Evan’s hair, “You went sliding down the entire length of the Ravenclaw table, flew off the end, and crashed into the legs of the head table. It was a miracle you didn’t break anything.”

“There are no such things as miracles, only magic and people who are too ignorant to notice it.”

“Keep quoting Uncle Severus and you’ll end up just like him.”

Lucius could not comprehend how such a simple banter of words could mesmerize him so thoroughly. Perhaps it was that such a light hearted, good-natured exchange had never before taken place under his roof, let alone at his dining room table. The dining room had always been a somber place where meals were eaten in silence, or, on the occasions Narcissa received letters from their son, a one sided dictation interjected every so often by threats.

Taking a seat at the head of the table, he watched the two talk as they ate, ignoring him entirely. It didn’t bother him, though, there was too much on his mind; such as what he was to do about the Dark Lord.

It was in his best interest to hand over the young Potter before Lord Voldemort found out his whereabouts. If what Severus said was true, then he had been very much mistaken in his lord’s interests in the boy over the years. Of course, he had already told Harry that they were safe from any such attack while at Malfoy Manor, that Voldemort had no active desire to spirit Evan away at the present. He might as well allow the belief to persist as it would be much easier to get Harry to follow him outside the manor if he had no idea were they were going.

Evan was bantering on about something, it sounded like it had to do with ‘Grandpa Sirius,’ and ‘Grandma Moony.’ Harry chuckled, but as Lucius watched the green eyes darted expectantly towards him.

As Harry looked away quickly, Lucius felt his lower regions twitch. Merlin help him, but he wanted to take Harry right there on the table. He suppressed a smirk as the thought ‘again’ crept into his mind. He wanted to grab him and press him onto the dark, hard wood, grind into him until those piercing green eyes glazed over in passion, until Harry was moaning for more.

He caught Harry staring back at him and allowed a half turned smile to creep across his face; let his little captive interpret it as he will. Tonight was going to be... rather agreeable.

__________________________

 

Tonight, if the little pint sized devil got his way, was going to be its own little portion of hell, a place Lucius was fairly sure he was going in the after life. Evan was being particularly difficult, crying and whining that he wanted to sleep with his father, that the room was too big and scary and, damnit, if the little sod wasn’t smiling from ear to ear every time Harry wasn’t looking.

“But, Daddy, I’m too scared to sleep in here all alone.”

Manipulative little prat! Harry’s face had absolutely melted at the word ‘Daddy,’ as Evan must have surely known it would. Harry looked over his shoulder, missing the wicked grin that split his son’s face. “Lucius...”

“No.” Evan’s smile dropped, his brows knitted together in frustration. “He is perfectly safe in here.” Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Lucius cut him off. “No.”

Harry’s closed his eyes, his face tight as though he were stealing himself from something before he turned back to his son. “You have to sleep in here tonight, Evan.”

“But, Daddy,” the grey eyes had misted over in concern, even though his posture didn’t say that he intended to throw a fit, “I want to sleep with you.”

“You can’t, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“But my ankle! What if I need to use the bathroom and it hurts too much.”

Lucius’ eye twitched, the pitch the child had picked was actually painful and he could feel the signs that said a headache was imminent. “Then the house elves will assist you.”

“But I don’t trust the house elves.”

“Why exactly not?”

“Because they’re yours and you’re a bad, evil man and anything you own is bad and evil, too, and I hope you...”

Harry clamped his hand quickly over Evan’s mouth and turned to face Lucius, whose face had become much too calm. “Lucius, he doesn’t mean it.”

“Oh, he means it and it’s very possibly one of the most correct statements ever made about me that didn’t regard my lineage.” Lucius stepped forward, grabbing Harry’s arm, simultaneously pulling him away from his son and pushing him towards the door.

Lucius felt his fingers twitch to grab hold of the child’s face, to squeeze those cherub cheeks till Evan whimpered in pain, but he held back, knowing that Harry was watching, knowing that any plans he had made would be unsalvageable the moment he lost control of his temper. “Listen very carefully, little Potter child, you would do well to watch what you say, no matter how true it may be. That little habit of uninhibited honestly could get you into trouble in the future. It could get you injured beyond what even your amazing wild magic can defend against. There are some people, little Evan James, that would kill you for less. Do you understand?”

Everything was silent, Lucius was fairly sure that even Harry was holding his breath. Evan opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again and settled on nodding his head shakily.

“Good, now go to sleep, your father and I have things we need to discuss.” He turned around and swept out the door; his temper had abated somewhat, but the urge to hit something, someone in particular, was still too strong to ignore.

It wasn’t that he thought he was anything other than ‘bad and evil,’ but hearing it said to his face was not something he was used to. Besides even that, ‘evil’ was a very uninventive way of putting things, very blunt. Lucius had been called many things in the past; most often by someone he was torturing. ‘Foul beast of a mudblood whore’ had been one of the many Harry had used at sixteen.

The door he was leaning next to opened and Harry came out. Nervousness was etched into his posture, from the stiffness of his body to the way his eyes moved to Lucius and away, afraid to really look, but unable to stop himself. As he locked onto the bight green eye, every ounce of barely concealed rage melted out of Lucius body leaving only his desire for the young man in front of him

He wanted Harry. He wanted him screaming in pleasure as he came.

Harry took a deep breath, but dropped his eyes to the floor, “At your lead.”

Nothing was said as they made their way down the hall, in fact, Lucius was hard pressed to even hear Potter’s breathing behind him. Once they had reached the bedroom, the blonde wizard opened the door and stepped aside, making a show of sweeping his arm out, as though to say ‘ladies first.’

Harry caught the meaning and scowled, but said nothing as he stepped into the room and stopped just inside the door. Lucius stepped in after him, closing it tightly and muttering the locking spell before placing his hands on the tense shoulder of his unwilling lover.

The aristocratic hands ran over the stiff shoulders and down the arms, feeling the taught muscles under his fingers, enjoying the way they froze under his touch, enjoying even more the thought of them melting. He squeezed the biceps lightly before leaning his head down to whisper into Harry’s ear.

“I’ve made it very easy for you up to now.” Harry opened his mouth to disagree, but seemed to have lost his voice. “I’ve allowed you to continue in this illusion that you can’t enjoy what I could do to you. I’ve let you believe whatever you liked... until now.” The hands on his shoulders ran down Harry’s arms, sliding off at the wrists and gripping his hips firmly as the deceptively soft mouth latched onto his neck, sending little shivers of pleasure down his spine. He liked... no, Harry gave a little cry of protest at his own thought, but Lucius seemed to take it as encouragement and bit slightly against the skin, turning the shivers into waves and making Harry’s cock twitch to life between his legs.

Harry started to try and push Lucius’ hands off his hips, to lessen the contact somewhat, but Lucius was having none of that and gripped Harry’s wrists instead, holding them firmly to his side until he was sure he smaller man wasn’t going to move them.

When Harry had gone still, Lucius let go of the wrists and moved his hands back to their previous position, slowly letting the left one slip forward to allow the fingers to brush against Harry’s half firm cock. Harry’s face turned towards his captor, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at the cold grey eyes, so he simply focused on the soft material as it rolled over the broad shoulder and down the muscular arm.

Lucius moved the hand forward until it rested languidly on top of his cock, which was quickly filling despite its owners desperate attempts otherwise. Harry’s eyes closed of their own accord and he felt the moan that slipped past his lips. A small voice in the back of his mind was telling him that more contact would be a good thing.

As the hand tightened slightly around the bulge, Harry felt his head go light and he lost touch with reality for a bare moment. His hips moved forward, into the hand, and his head lulled back against the shoulder to allow that sinful mouth more neck to suck on. The brush of silken hair against his face brought him back, but Lucius had latched onto a place behind Harry’s ear that was making quick work of his resolve.

Lucius moved the hand off Harry’s hip and slid it inside the folds of the thin maroon cloak and fingered the first button on the slacks Harry wore under it. He half expected the smaller man to try and throw him off, but it seemed that Harry was too far gone to think of that, so Lucius took his time undoing each of the four buttons, letting the pants fall further open by degrees.

When he finally had each of them undone, he took his hand off the fully hardened cock it had been massaging and used it to undo the clasp of the cloak, ignoring the desperate whimpers coming from Harry’s throat.

Lucius pulled Harry’s cloak off his shoulder and let it pool on the floor, taking just long enough to move so that Harry whimpered again. When he did move, he kept his hands away from the erection as he slipped Harry’s pants down past the small hips, lowering them, as well as himself, to the ground.

Being on his knees in front of anyone was not something Lucius was accustomed to, but he wanted to keep Harry from feeling too intimidated. He wanted his dark haired captive to be concentrating only on that need for pleasure, and if getting on his knees was what it took for Lucius to get what he wanted than he would gladly do so.

A Malfoy will do anything to get what he wants.

Harry stared at the blond head as his underwear joined his pants on the floor. If he closed his eyes right now he could almost pretend it was Draco in front of him, Draco’s hands melting against the skin of his thighs, running down his calves, and making the fine hair on his leg stand on end; Draco’s mouth kissing his hips and Draco’s tongue running down to the inside of his thighs.

The tongue touched the top of his cock, bringing him out his self induced fantasy. He didn’t want to sully the innocent memories he had of Draco, no matter how much better it might make the situation. Of course, Harry was quickly finding that it didn’t really matter who it was, his body was reacting and his brain seemed to have shut off altogether in favor of simply feeling.

Lucius watched Harry carefully, slowly licking his way over the sensitive golden skin, feeling the smooth hairs brushing over his tongue. He tasted bitter like sweat and... banana. He repressed a smile; he hadn’t thought Harry would be partial to that particular soap.

The green in Harry’s eyes dulled, as though a haze had settled over them. That had been what he was waiting for; the moment when Harry began to lose himself in his lust. He dipped his head down and took Harry’s balls in his mouth, gently rolling one, then the other in his mouth as he enjoyed the moans coming from Harry’s throat.

He liked those, deeper than young man’s voice, unfettered by worry or apprehension. Taking his mouth off Harry, he gained a pitiful whimper and ran his tongue over the underside of the proud shaft in compensation. However, a blowjob was not what Lucius had in mind.

Harry couldn’t say for sure which was worse, that he wanted more, or that he did not care it was Lucius making his body feel this way. Hell, it could have been Snape and Harry would have welcomed the contact at this point. He needed to be touched, needed that mouth to be back where it had been.

But it wasn’t there anymore, it was snaking its way back up Harry’s abdomen, leaving a wet trail behind it, and now Lucius was standing again, looking down at Harry with those smoldering eyes that made shivers run straight into Harry’s crotch. Lucius moved forward and latched his mouth onto Harry’s, kissing the other man firmly, but taking great care not to instill too great a sense of control. Harry needed the illusion that he could pull away at any time.

He let one hand tangle at the hair near Harry’s neck, massaging it slowly while the other worked the buttons of Harry’s loose shirt, much in the same fashion as the pants. When he had them undone, however, he did not pull the shirt off, or even apart, but rather slipped his hand underneath and felt the hot skin underneath. He wanted to press himself against the naked body of his lover and feel that heat against him. To do that, however, he needed to be naked.

Somewhere in his lust hazed mind, Harry registered what was happening, but he couldn’t be bothered with that right now with Lucius hand ice cold against his flushed skin, and it making him gasp into the mouth that was effectively ravishing his own, and he couldn’t decided if he wanted the hand on his neck to join the other in exploring his body, or if he wanted to pull away and tell Lucius to just get on with it, because if whatever was going to happen didn’t happen soon he might explode.

Just when he had decided that maybe the second option was the better of the two, Lucius pulled back and took Harry’s hand, started to step backward until the smaller man followed his lead. Harry wasn’t sure how many steps they took, but he knew where they were taking him. Lucius wanted the bed, and that realization had sparked the part of him that didn’t want this to happen, the part that was still rational.

He would have opened his mouth to voice his discomfort, but Lucius had chosen that moment to press his mouth onto a specific part of Harry’s neck and he suddenly couldn’t remember exactly what it was he had meant to say, so he moaned instead.

Lucius hands were pressing into Harry’s back and running their way up and around, feeling every part of the golden tanned twenty one year old body and Harry had the sudden epiphany that he wanted more than just hands on him.

There was a thirty second pause between realization and understanding - realization that Harry did indeed want to have sex very badly, and that he wanted it with Lucius Malfoy; understanding that it didn’t actually matter who it was but that if Malfoy was the only one handy, Harry might as well use him to get the job done and think about the consequences later. That did not, however, make Harry any less trepidatious about the whole matter. There was still his conscience, which was nagging at him for wanting the father of the man he was fairly certain he had been in love with. He might not have had the time to do anything about it, he might have taken too long, but he still felt empty every time he allowed himself to think about Draco.

Harry was torn between thought and blind lust when he suddenly noticed Lucius robes were missing and his shirt was being thrown into a pile with the other discarded items. It wasn’t that Lucius was not attractive, on the contrary, Harry found the refined musculature more than just appealing - the way Lucius abdomen actually rippled every time he moved, the rigid muscles that stood to attention when Lucius so much as picked up a pen - it was that this was Lucius Malfoy, his rapist and he should not be overwhelmed with want at the sight of his rapist naked.

But he was. In fact, had Harry been a normal man, with a normal sexual appetite, he would have been drooling. One finger ran around the head of Harry’s cock and his mind dissolved into need, something he was more than happy to oblige at the moment.

With a small push, he fell on the bed, legs inadvertently spread to accommodate the larger man that was crawling on top of him, kissing his stomach and chest, once again working his way down. Harry thought, for the barest of minutes, that Lucius was planning to suck him off again, but when the mouth skipped his cock altogether and instead began working the inside of his thighs, he wasn’t so certain.

“Turn over, love.”

In his limited experience, being on his stomach meant only one thing and Harry wasn’t certain he was entirely ready for that exactly, he wanted something, but he hadn’t really made up his mind as to what just yet. His body, however, seemed to think that compliance was the best option, and before he’d had time to properly mull it over he was on his stomach with two hands slowly spreading his legs.

Lucius did not move up, as Harry had expected, instead his hands began kneading Harry’s ass as though to relax it. Harry was still trying to prepare himself for maybe a finger (feeling slight flutters in his stomach when he remembered that morning) when something entirely different pressed against his ass.

It was wet and warm, and made the depth of Harry’s balls churn, and it was most definitely not a finger. He looked back and saw Lucius slowly lick each of his ass cheeks before slowly beginning to press against his anus. “Oh, god!” Harry dropped his head to the bed and pressed his forehead against the blankets. That was... “Oh, god.”

Lucius lifted his mouth, “No, Harry, love: Lucius.”

Harry whimpered as the tongue began to push into him again, slowly stretching and spreading him. Oh, Merlin, he was going to fucking cum from this alone, it was like little electric shock waves running up and down his spine, he could barely hold still.

After a few moments, the tongue was replaced by a finger, and Harry was surprised at how easily it slid into him, all the way to the knuckle, and when it started moving, Lucius began licking his way up Harry’s back. Harry moaned deeply as a second finger joined the first. God, but he wanted more, it was like need was radiating from inside him.

It wasn’t until three fingers were moved inside him, brushing against the spot that sent fire through his body, that his need took complete control over him, “God, please...”

“Please what?”

The fingers twisted, “Nnnn, please more, please.”

Lucius was chuckling in Harry’s ear, “Tell me exactly what you want, Harry.”

“God, Lucius, just fuck me, already!” There hadn’t been any room for hesitation or thought, not even mild humiliation at the realization that he was begging his rapist for sex.

It was like they were magic words. The fingers disappeared as Lucius reached past Harry to pick the same vial he had used that morning off of the bed side table. He turned Harry onto his back and gripped his legs under the knees. At Harry’s curious gaze, he allowed a small smirk. “I want to see your face.”

With his legs pulled over Lucius shoulders and his body doubled over on himself, he had a perfect view of Lucius cock as the older man positioned it for entry. There was pain, Harry wasn’t sure it was possible to have sex without pain, but there was also satisfaction, a sense of fulfillment that he had never felt before.

He stopped watching it disappear into him and put his head back, pushing back against the intrusion as much as his position would allow. When he felt Lucius balls against his ass, he moaned contentedly.

Everything went very still and Harry had just enough control over himself to realize that this was time for his body to adjust. Less that a minute went by, however, before Harry felt his body moving of its own accord, pulling back and pushing in minute motions to try and prompt action.

Lucius gave a low, guttural growl and began pulling out slowly. The pulling out hurt, Harry didn’t like that so much, it left parts of him feeling empty again, but when Lucius pushed back in, fast and abrupt, he nearly screamed in pleasure. His legs were dropped off the shoulders and he wrapped them around the man’s waist, using them to push Lucius back towards him every time he dared pulled back.

The harder Lucius pushed, the louder Harry moaned and panted, and the louder Harry became, the harder Lucius fucked him. When long fingers wrapped around Harry’s cock he exploded almost instantly, his back arching and his entire body clamping down. Lucius gave a last violent thrust and Harry felt warmth spreading inside him.

Harry was fairly sure it took several minutes to come down from the euphoric after-bliss, and when he did it was crushing. Lucius had not bothered to get off of him, or to pull out, he seemed perfectly content to lay there on top of Harry and catch his breath.

Ignoring the self-satisfied smirk, Harry pushed Lucius off and turned away from him. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about exactly how much he had enjoyed that and how much he would very much enjoy doing it again. Of course, he wasn’t sure he wanted it to be Lucius, but his exhausted libido gave a small, pleasurable twist at the name.

Although he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to be anywhere near Lucius at the moment, he couldn’t deny that it felt somehow comforting when Lucius slipped an arm over his waist from behind. Harry closed his eyes tighter. He didn’t want this to be comforting. He wished that he could want it to be just and painful and degrading, as the thought of this man touching him had always been, but he couldn’t.

He lay silently in the bed trying to weed through exactly what it was he felt, but when exhaustion finally took its tool he still had no idea why he wasn’t moving away.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

"You are far too lenient."

Harry looked up questioningly from the book he was reading, "How is that, Lucius?"

"He should have been punished."

"He’s only five-years-old."

Lucius eye twitched, "He threw a black marble stone at my head."

Harry withheld the smirk that was attempting to make its way onto his face. Lucius had made the horrible mistake of telling a cranky Evan it was time for bed. Harry had spent the entire day with his son, but had not been able to convince him to take a nap. They had eaten dinner when Lucius returned home and, at his request, joined him in the study while he worked.

It had been... odd. Harry still wasn’t sure what Lucius meant to accomplish by having them in the room with him rather than just sending Evan off to bed. It was almost as though he were trying to have ‘family time,’ but Harry knew him too well to put any faith in that idea. No, Lucius had something else on his mind and Harry just wished he knew what it was.

"He didn’t have very good aim, though, did he?"

Lucius scowled, "That is not the point. How do you expect him act mature when you allow him to throw things at people who tell him to go to bed?"

"Well, he’s never really done that before." Harry went back to reading. Having spent an hour calming his son down and putting him to bed, what he wanted now was to sit on the couch, read the book, and ignore the fact that Lucius demanding tone was making his cock stir.

"You are taking this too lightly."

Harry slammed the book shut and sat up, "Lucius, you kidnaped him, you keep us apart far more then he’s used to, and you order him around like he’s some minion for you to control; how exactly do you expect him to react?"

"I am his father, I expect him to treat me with respect."

Harry’s eyes narrowed, "Father in fact, not in name, and if you don’t drop the subject I may lose my temper."

Lucius felt the crackle in air, like a fine mist, and sighed, going back to what he was doing and allowed Harry to start reading again.

He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to bring the two of them into the study. He’d had a half baked idea that Harry might enjoy spending a little more time with his son before bed, but when, after an hour, he had announced it was time for bed, Evan had thrown a full blown fit and when it didn’t appear that Lucius was backing down, he’d grabbed the nearest thing he could hold in his small hand and thrown it at him.

The artifact, a small black marble stone, was quite ruined, which was a pity; it had properties that could have been useful at some point, but that was not what bothered Lucius most. Harry had done next to nothing about it. He had turned Evan around, stared him in the eyes and said, ‘Evan James, you know you aren’t supposed to throw things,’ and Evan had nodded and sniffed, saying, ‘I know,’ and the entire thing had been dropped.

Lucius had expected, at the very least, a long winded lecture on the dangers of touching things without knowing what they were. The item could have been cursed, it could have been poisonous.

He sat brooding over the situation for the better part of an hour before deciding that it was hardly worth his effort. After all, Harry was right about one thing, father in fact, not in name, and he had no intentions of starting that now; not with Evan, at any rate.

Pushing his chair away from his desk, he leaned back and stared at Harry, who was thoroughly engrossed in ‘Safety Charms for Children.’ Did the man think about anything else, and where in Merlin’s name had that come from?

Harry looked over slowly, as though sensing he was being stared at, "Do you want something, Lucius?"

Leaning back a little further, Lucius smirked, "Perhaps."

Harry tried to look back at the book, but found sitting still fairly well impossible. Apparently, his body had absolutely no intentions of listening to his mental apprehension. It was the way Lucius was staring at him, really, up and down, focusing on his chest then his legs before settling on his lap.

He felt the slight flush in his cheeks and focused on the page he wasn’t really reading anymore. Damn, Lucius, but this was frustrating. With a heavy sigh, he put the book on the table next to the stiff sofa he had been half laying on. "Well?"

Lucius pushed back from his desk a little further and motioned for Harry to come to him, which he did, though with more than a little trepidation. He sat on the edge of the desk facing the blonde wizard, eyeing him, "Now?"

Still not saying anything, Lucius pointed at the floor, then his crotch. It took Harry a moment to understand what he was trying to say. "You can’t be serious."

The smirk had returned and when he spoke his voice was smoky with lust, "You do this, Harry love, and last night will look like foreplay."

Oh. Harry blinked a few times, very aware that his half stiff cock was quickly filling and pressing into the slacks under his robes. He gulped, looking down at Lucius’ lap as the man pushed his robes open and began undoing his pants.

"...but that’s been, I mean, you put it..."

Lucius pulled his erect cock out, chuckling softly as Harry faltered. "I hope you are not referring to last night’s activities, Harry, because I can assure I have washed quite thoroughly since then."

Harry gulped, looking down with widened eyes. Now that he thought about it, he’d never had occasion to actually stare at another’s man fully erect cock before, not really. He’d seen it, he’d had this particular one shoved up his ass on more than one occasion, but he’d never really taken a good long look at the actual thing itself, all on its own, just standing there, waiting.

He worried his lower lip as Lucius began stroking himself lazily to keep his erection. He didn’t really want to, but he couldn’t say he didn’t want to. It was still Lucius, it was still strange and disturbing and not something he wanted to dissect at the moment, but it wasn’t as though he had anyone else around either.

He’d spent most of the day agonizing inwardly over the evenings events and had come up with several conclusions. He didn’t want Lucius in particular, which was a great relief, and he had no actual feelings towards the man, it was just that Lucius was the only one who had ever touched him that way and that was bound to have an effect on him.

As for him having enjoyed sex, well, that was a little trickier; he had tried to write it off as simple physical stimulus, but it wasn’t just that. It was his entire life being unloved, untouched by even his family and to have someone finally touch him in a way that was not painful and not hurting had made it that much more intense on a mental and emotional level.  
Given the choice, he’d much rather be on his knees in front of Filch than Lucius and that was saying something; still.. "Foreplay, huh?"

Lucius nodded and wagged a finger, which made Harry scowl because he was already getting down and it looked far too much like compliance. Once he was on his knees, though, there wasn’t much room for feeling degrading. Well, not about a little finger wag, anyway. He looked up, his mouth twisted in an uncertain sneer, "I’m not really all that sure what to do."

Lucius took his hand off his member and wrapped it in Harry hair, "We’ll start with putting it in your mouth" he blinked once, "and watch the teeth.

Harry swallowed what was left of his slowly ebbing pride and opening his mouth, lowering it over the head of Lucius cock. The hand pushed him down and the tip of it touched his tongue unexpectedly. He tried to pull back, but the hand didn’t budge, so he settled on letting it rest where it was. He decided that it tasted bitter, but not so much so that he felt like gagging. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he noted the slight musky smell; he tried not to note that it wasn’t all that unpleasant.

He dipped his head, moving in miniscule motions as Lucius gave a little shudder, but didn’t close his eyes. That was Harry’s first hint that something was wrong. Something wasn’t right; Lucius was clearly enjoying himself, the rock hard erection lying against Harry’s tongue was enough to tell him that, yet, despite this, he was staring intently at the door, as though he expected something.

Or someone. Harry started to pull up. The only other person in the manor was Evan and he’d be damned if his son was going to walk in on this, but Lucius gripped his hair harder and pushed, shoving the cock down Harry’s throat and making him gag. He pressed his palm into Lucius legs, trying to use the leverage to push himself up, but it wasn’t working and he needed air.

The door opened, smashing against the wall with a loud crash. He was slightly relieved at the realization that it couldn’t be Evan (Evan was barely strong enough to open the heavy wooden doors), but also more than a little worried as to who it actually was.

He was aware of Lucius doing something with his other hand, of saying something low under his breath that followed by the heavy thud of someone falling to the floor. Lucius let go of his hair and he stumbled to his feet, coughing and choking on his own breath as he looked around. A figure was lying on the floor, a man if the broad shoulders were anything to go by, and he was heaving as though he were trying to suck in breath, but couldn’t. Stumbling forward, Harry fell down next to him, and turned him over to get a better look. He’d already gathered that whoever it was there to help him, Lucius wouldn’t have attacked the person, otherwise, he just hoped it wasn’t Snape, the last thing anyone needed was for their only spy to blow his cover.

It wasn’t Snape; it was Sirius, and his lips were already turning an unhealthy blue.

Harry turned on Lucius, wiping at the tears that had clouded his vision when he’d been choking, "Stop it, Lucius! Stop it right now!"

"Get Evan."

Harry’s eyes slit dangerously, but his coming outburst was interrupted when Sirius gave a violent shudder and gripped the hem of Harry’s robes. He looked down, both scared and angry, but not entirely sure what to do anymore, "Sirius..." he turned back to his captor, "Lucius, please? I’ll get Evan; just stop whatever it is your doing."

Lucius stood from his chair, wand still aimed at Sirius, "I will take it off the moment you return with your son." Taking one last look at his godfather, Harry scrambled up desperately and ran through the still open door.

Lucius watched the trailing figure until he was sure the young man was out of ear shot. Giving a large sigh, he walked slowly over to Sirius and looked down at it with unhidden contempt. "Do you have any idea, Black, how long it has taken me to get him to the point where he would do that willingly?"

The blue eyes glared daggers up at Lucius and the blond twisted the wand subtly in his grip. Sirius reached up to grab at his own throat, "If you’ve found us the others can’t be far behind. It really is a shame; Harry will be most uncooperative with both you and his son gone. However, I suppose it can’t be helped, can it?"

He held it there, enjoying the convulsions and desperate gestures for air, until he heard footsteps coming down the hall. With a violent twisted the wand, he listened with amusement as the bones in Sirius’ neck cracked then shattered under the increased pressure and he went suddenly limp, hands falling to his side and vacant eyes open staring up into nothing.

"Such a shame, indeed."

 

__________________________

 

Harry thought his heart was going to explode. Sirius was on the floor of Lucius office. Did that mean the others knew where he was, too, or had his godfather been impetuous and tried the rescue on his own? Sirius was known for not thinking things through, especially where Harry was concerned.

Throwing open the door to Evan’s room, he scooped his son up, not bothering to say anything or properly wake him. He had to get back quickly. The little arms wound around his neck and tightened as Evan began to wake up, "Father?"

"Yes, sweetie, it’s okay."

Evan rubbed his eyes with one fist and looked around, "Where are we going?"

Harry hurried his steps, trying not to seem too anxious. Evan was probably going to be upset as it was, there was no need to make it any worse. "Just to the library."

"Father, I forgot my big brother dragon."

Harry stopped for a moment and looked back, hesitantly. He just couldn’t afford the time, not with Sirius choking to death and Lucius study. "We’ll go back for it later, okay?"

Evan nodded and put his head back on his father’s shoulder, holding tightly as they walked at a near run down the hall. Harry started to sigh in relief as he saw the study door approaching, but came to an abrupt halt at what he saw once he stepped inside. Sirius lay on the floor, his hands strew out on the carpet next to him, his face ghostly white, his lips pale blue, and his eyes misted over in death.

For a few seconds all Harry would do was stare.

"Grandpa Sirius?"

He was jerked painfully back to reality by the sound of his son’s frightened and confused voice. He lifted a hand up and gently put Evan’s head back on his shoulder, "Don’t look, sweetie."

"Daddy, what’s wrong with Grandpa Sirius?"

Before he could respond, he felt a hand tighten around his upper arm and looked up at Lucius, who simply shrugged at the questioning glance, "You took too long."

Harry gaped as he and Evan were forcibly dragged across the room. It didn’t register where they were headed until he was shoved into the fireplace, still holding tightly onto Evan, who had not yet lifted his face from the crook of his father’s neck.

Harry watched Lucius reaching for floo powder and felt his stomach clench painfully, "Where are we going?"

Lucius didn’t answer and Harry began to panic, "Lucius, where are we going?"

He barely had time to hear, "Lord Voldemort," before he was engulfed in flame and the twirling, jerking sensation forced him to do nothing other than grip onto Evan for all he was worth and wait for it to stop. When it did, he tumbled forward, barely managing to stay on his feet.

The room was large, sparsely furnished with only a single seat at the far end, and eerily familiar. He took a deep, steadying breath. They weren’t alone. Harry was standing in front of Lord Voldemort and twenty or more death eaters. He had begun to slowly back up, holding onto Evan even more tightly than before, when a sound behind him indicated Lucius had come through.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder and he stood still, staring at the throne like seat on the other side of the room that Voldemort occupied. The dark lord gave a low chuckled, unsettling chuckle. "Well, then, the rumors were true after all. Lucius Malfoy has brought me Harry Potter and my son."

Harry growled, but said nothing. Voldemort hated it when captives ‘talked back;’ they didn’t have to like what was being said, but he didn't want them voicing their opinions. With serpentine grace, Voldemort stood, slowly striding towards them as Harry fought the urge to back up, to run, to do anything but just stand there waiting for the inevitable.

Voldemort stopped in the center of the room, facing them from a distance. "I believe that I would like to have a look at Evan, Harry."

Harry cringed and shook his head, but Lucius tightened the grip on his shoulder painfully. There really was no way around it, one way or another they would make him let go and the last thing he wanted was for his son to get hurt in the cross fire. Talking a few deep breaths, he lowered himself to the ground and let Evan stand.

He ran his hands through his son’s sleep tousled hair. There was very little hope in his mind that he could avoid separation and the thought of his little boy in Voldemort’s grasp was enough to nearly bring him to tears. "Be good and do what they say, Evan, alright?"

Evan looked back at the men behind them and wrapped his arms back around his father’s neck, "Daddy, I’m scared."

Harry rubbed his son’s back soothingly, "I am too, but it’ll be okay, just be good for me."

After a moment, Evan nodded into his chest and Harry gently pried his arms off from around his neck before looking back at Voldemort, who seemed highly amused at the entire situation, "Come here, Evan."

Harry saw Evan hesitate and nudged him forward, holding back the fear in his heart as he watched him walk slowly into the middle of the death eaters. Lucius steered Harry to ftlinejoin him as the death eater’s formed a circle around the two. He kept his fingers curled tightly around Harry’s shoulder.

Harry watched numbly as Voldemort stood in front of Evan, waiting for his followers to finish moving into place. When the room was still (with the exception of Evan, who couldn’t stop himself from glancing back at his father every few seconds) the dark lord looked down and took in the child before him.

"Do you know who I am?"

Evan looked back at his father again, his hands clasped nervously behind his back. "No."

Harry would have called what Voldemort did next a smile if he thought the monster were capable of such a genuine gesture. "Look at me when you speak, child."

Evan looked back, and gulped slightly, "No, I don’t know who you are."

Voldemort nodded, "I am Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord and your father."

At this Evan’s nervousness disappeared entirely, replaced by anger that someone else would try that on him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew who Voldemort was, and he wasn’t his father. His hands dropped to his sides and he straightened up, looking back defiantly, "No you’re not."

Voldemort knelt down as gracefully as he could, given the bulk of the robes around his sickeningly thin figure. "Perhaps not by heritage, but you were born to be my son."

Evan shook his head, refusing to believe anything ‘the bad man’ told him. Hadn’t his father always told him never to believe anything Voldemort told him? "No."

Voldemort scowled, "You should be honored that someone as great as myself wants you for an heir."

Evan’s eyes slit and Harry heard the coming response before it even left his son’s mouth and closed his eyes to the anger he knew would follow. "My father says you’re nothing but a filthy mudblood."

Harry felt the air go still and opened his eyes in time to see Voldemort turn to look at him. His demeanor was too calm for Harry’s liking. The Dark Lord stood and walked across the room to stand in front of Harry who couldn’t help but shake slightly. It may have been five years, but the memories of the hours of torture were still fresh.

Voldemort ran his hand down Harry’s cheek, watching the face tighten and the green eyes fill with pain, "Did you really, little Harry? Did you teach your son to call me that?"

Harry looked at Evan who was still standing in the center of the circle, watching the dark lord with deep contempt. Voldemort gripped Harry’s chin and forced him to look back, "Did you teach your son to call me that?"

"No. I told him about your father... b... but Draco..."

He trailed off as he saw comprehension in the Dark Lord’s face. "Draco, you say. Lucius?"

Lucius nodded, "I have already dealt with Draco, my lord. He is dead."

Evan’s defiance dropped into disbelief and he looked questioningly at his father. Harry clenched his teeth. He had not wanted Evan to find out like that, he’d been waiting till it was safe to sit with him and explain it like he had explained Hermione and Fred and Neville and everyone else that had died in the past two years.Voldemort looked back at Harry and stroked his thumb over the dark haired wizard’s jaw line, "Still, I do believe you need to be punished. It doesn’t do for you to have allowed my son to use such a filthy word, don’t you agree?"

Harry shook his head, but said nothing. At Voldemort’s nod, Lucius shifted his grip to hold Harry’s upper arms tightly. Harry was preparing himself for a curse when Voldemort turned away and aimed his wand at Evan instead.

"No!" Harry threw himself against Lucius grip, but it tightened, cutting the blood off to his arms. "No, please!"

But it did no good. Harry didn’t even hear the words, just the green light that flashed through his son and the heavy thud of the small body hitting the ground. Everything went very still, Harry’s entire world seem to come to a stop. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

Lucius felt Harry go limp in his arms, but kept him upright. Not even he had been expecting that. Crucio, maybe, but for the Dark Lord to kill the boy he had been waiting so long to get is hands on? Voldemort turned back to them and, from the cruel smile spreading on his face, Lucius gathered he was pleased with what he saw. He reached a thin, bony hand forward and trailed it over Harry’s check, bringing his wet fingers up to look at them.

Tears. Harry must have been crying and Voldemort was infinitely pleased with it. "Is that all it took, little hero of the wizarding world? I have tortured you, had you raped, I’ve killed your friends in front of you, and all it took was that. Just that?"

Harry was becoming a dead weight and Lucius let him drop to the ground where he sat on the heals of his feet, unmoving. Voldemort stared down a moment longer before the smile dropped and he looked back up at Lucius, "Do what you like with him, Lucius, he is of no interest to me." He sounded somewhat disappointed.

A tingle split the air, like small tendrils of electricity seeking something out. It took a moment for Lucius to realize what it was and even when he did he wasn’t sure he believed it. Harry was sitting perfectly still, staring at the unmoving body of his dead son, but his eyes were livid, like they were on fire, and the energy around him crackling more brightly than when he had lost his temper with Lucius only days before.

It really shouldn’t have been possible. He’d had less than a week to recover; there shouldn’t have been that much stored energy, not to mention that Potter did not seem to be mentally capable of lifting a finger, let alone throwing the Dark Lord clear across the chamber with enough force to crack his head open like an overripe pumpkin.

It shouldn’t have been possible and yet that was what happened. Without so much as a word, without blinking, without even a cry of outrage, Potter had sent Voldemort flying forward until there was little left of his face but a squashed mass oozing red and pink onto the floor below it.

Still nothing. Harry didn’t move as the other Deatheaters began aparatting away. Lucius watched his lover as he sat there, staring. However, he couldn’t wait very long, the Auror’s would sense this place without Voldemort alive to guard it, they would feel Potter’s presence and come looking for him.

When Lucius grabbed Harry’s arm and lifted him up, turning him away, Harry made his first half aware gesture - to try and pull back and face the body again, "Evan..."

"Is dead." Lucius finished and watched Harry’s face crumble. With a heavy sigh, he pulled him toward the fireplace, "We’ll have another."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted in 2003. I have not extensively edited since then. I apologize.

It had been a month since the dark lord was found essentially bludgeoned to death in his lair. There had been many arrests since then and unlike the last time Voldemort fell his followers were being given no chance to wiggle their way out. Even the untouchable Lucius Malfoy had been given the Dementor’s Kiss only minutes after his capture.

However, that was one of their chief problems, for while Lucius was responsible for Harry’s kidnapping, the death of Sirius Black, and Merlin only knew what else, he was also the only person that Harry had let near him.

The Aurors who stormed Malfoy Manor had been more than a little shocked to find Harry Potter sitting next to Lucius Malfoy in the parlor, apparently listening to him read something. Lucius had gone quietly; something that surprised even to Severus, though he assumed Malfoy was betting on his money to get him off the proverbial hook once again.

Unfortunately, that was not the case. They had led Lucius from the Manor and allowed the dementors that accompanied them to give him the kiss before even leaving the premises. They were taking no chances. However, when one of them had tried to approach Harry, the young girl had been knocked several feet back without any sign that Potter even comprehended her presence.

It had been the same with the other Aurors, and for the past few weeks a barrage of people had been coming to Malfoy Manor to try and get Harry to, at the very least, respond to them. So far, none of them had had any luck. Harry was shut up in his own world and he’d be buggered if anyone was going to drag him back out. They hadn’t even managed to budge him from the sofa in his sleep.

Severus wondered what was in that world that was so enticing. Was it a world where he and his son were living together without care or worry or fear of Voldemort breathing down their necks? Was it a world where Lily and James and Sirius were there? Wherever it was Harry didn’t seem likely to leave any time soon. He was content to sit silently and occasionally allow one of the house elves to feed him.

Dumbledore had given up almost all hope, but he’d had one last option, not a likely one, but all the same... He had asked Severus to have a go at getting his fellow Professor to at least talk, to try and figure out what was going on inside of Harry’s head so they might find a way to bring him back.

So, Severus had stood at the doorway to the parlor in Malfoy Manor for the past hour, watching Harry closely as he took deep breaths in and out in a hypnotic kind of rhythm. It was perhaps the most peaceful he had ever seen in Harry in all the years he had known him.

He finally decided that it could be held off no longer and stepped forward, expected at any moment to be thrown back into the hallway that was now padded with large pillows to prevent head injuries. Instead, he felt a shudder pass through him and he continued to move forward, undeterred.

Harry hadn’t moved, or acknowledged that he knew Snape was there. The choice to let him come close must have been subconscious. When he had reached the sofa, he sat awkwardly on the arm and looked down at the side of Harry’s face. It was very surreal to watch someone knowing they couldn’t watch you back.

He waited another few minutes, hoping that Harry would become accustomed to his presence, before moving to kneel in front of the young man. He did not feel that it would be appropriate to touch him just yet. He didn’t want to be in close proximity should Harry suddenly decide he wanted to be alone.

“Potter?”

The green eyes didn’t waver.

“Potter, if you’re vying for sympathy from me then you are unlikely to succeed.”

Nothing.

He sat back in an undignified manner and continued to watch. It wasn’t right. Potter had never been weak, but then even Severus had been somewhat in shock at the events of that night.

He had been called for a routine meeting, had allowed Voldemort to know about a made-up rumor going around Hogwarts about Lucius. Dumbledore had postulated that if they could get the Dark Lord against Lucius than Malfoy would have no other choice but to come seek sanctuary with Dumbledore. And Dumbledore would have granted it, if for no other reason than having Harry and Evan back where he could keep them safe.

It had been a fairly brilliant plan, or at the very least it would have worked, if Sirius Black, the impetuous little sod hadn’t performed some very dark, dark magic to find Harry and infiltrate Malfoy Manor. Lucius had panicked and shown up in the middle of a Deatheater meeting that he was not meant to.

The results had been disastrous.

Voldemort had been trying to break Harry for over seven years and he had finally succeeded. Severus looked into Harry’s vacant face and tentatively brushed a strand of dark hair behind the other man’s face. Harry didn’t move at the contact, not to come towards it, but not to back away, either.

Voldemort had finally broken The-Boy-Who-Live and gotten himself killed in the process.

Severus slowly pulled out his wand and set it to Harry’s temple, mumbling the sleeping charm under his breath. He caught the man as he fell forward and allowed himself to snake an arm around Harry’s shoulders and hold his sleeping form. Perhaps Dumbledore would agree to let Snape take care of Harry himself, perhaps he wouldn’t take him to St. Mungos or one of the other many facilities the wizarding world had to offer.

Snape ran his fingers through Harry’s knotted, unwashed hair. A Snape taking care of a Potter, but stranger things had happened. Perhaps...


End file.
